The Corsair’s Isle
Here by the columns the air is so still,
Delicate clouds like a courtesan’s frill,
Trees arching skyward in resolute hope,
Here on the mountainous slope.
Turquoise the tint of the bay down below,
Apricot sun in ephemeral glow,
Shining so glad on the altar of stone,
Built for the king on his throne.
Flowers in tapestry cling to the walls,
Vacant the palace and vacant the halls,
Gods dwelling lonely in memory’s vault,
Ramparts encrusted with salt.
What celebrational reverie flared?
What jolly trumpets in unison blared?
What happy feasting and merriment loud?
Costume paraded so proud!
Here at these steps, with the breakers in view,
Sated by colour, immersed in the blue,
Peering so keen in the spyglass of time,
Surveying vistas sublime.
I am in sooth but a ghost of the paint,
Whispering ever in poetry faint,
Captured in nature, immortal in oil,
Timeless I never despoil.
adamdaniel 