In my poetry I shall tell of the trials, woes, and joys

To time yet unborn;

Of sleep and death that lie aheadand of strange music

As He beckons the world to his command,

In the haunting gloom of twilight.

Somewhere I lost my passing grace, and there you stood

Thou deadliest face;

For a time: to tell the hearts unrest: in mercies unconfused

As He beckons the world to his command,

In the haunting gloom of twilight.

To whom the unceasing fires belong (an inviolable heart)

Numbered is thy consequence;

A hymn, He hums: trembles the eveningof frozen flesh

As he beckons the world to his command,

In the haunting gloom of twilight.

Silent I turn from time, that holds dominion over all

As Orions sword passes by;

Gives way to the Devils hostile Firmament: warfare

As He beckons the world to his command,

In the haunting gloom of twilight.

Unarmed, He and I stand (like mindless clay) in the sun

Awaiting the darkness;

A sacrificial past for him, over Orions distinct sword

As He beckons the world to his command,

In the haunting gloom of twilight.

Note: 908 (11-1-2005); written in Lima, Peru, in my library, in the quiet darkness of the night The Author

See Dennis’ web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com