SONNET 115
'Moved time --- an eternal book ...'
~ John Keats, Sleep and Poetry
Storied nights of the mystic purple swing its chime
On th' once troubled, c'ressing sands of Asia Minor
Climb slimmer pillars mimed of glory that at times
Sought great leaders requiréd to be honour'd;
Fraught visions gleaned from a stolid people bygone,
Revolution unchained from revolution struck,
O sunrise and sunset suzerain, horizon
Commander by Rome's precipice Valerian snuck;
Onerous severer of greater bounds achieve
Macedon praise on thy shadow mercenaries.
With love, thy liege and loyalty stands counter-breeze
A hurried fast lucid'ty will this oasis
Whose vanguard plate mirages with suns' empyrean
Moved time -- come! winery in dunes, t'elysium.
