More Poetry

Robin's Arrow


Where grace low-lieth, leave me there to die.
Where truth will always slay the duelling lie,
And roses live, and harvests never fail.
Wake wisdom up, entreat him weave a tale
to span these aeons. Paint the man I was;
Tell them, 'Waste you no time nor breath, because
the flesh and blood is fleeting, passing by'.
Where grace low-lieth, leave me there to die.

Where grace low-lieth, leave me there to die.
Where rolling hills of plenty siege the eye,
Where doubts but doubt themselves, and love remains
Spread from strong hearts to fill my failing veins.
Where social fetters bind my hands no more,
And Peace sleeps soundly, free from dreams of War.
The last breath should be one contented sigh-
Where grace low-lieth, leave me there to die.

Where grace low-lieth, leave me there to die.
Where horizons of azure brace the sky...
My memories blaze and set the mind alight,
For all your tears that douse them feed, not fight
the ancient hearth-flame dwindling in my breast
that kept me warm throughout the epic test.
Dear friends, you speak of Life! But so do I.
Where grace low-lieth, leave me there to die.