Friday, April 11, 2014



She speaks to me
as the nightingale speaks
   in darkness sweetly singing
in warbling tremulous tones
   lets forth

her song serene and soaring
  a brightly luring flame
   as I for her hath wrought
from strange and distant shadows
   her mesmeric siren chant
reveals my secret name.

She a dusky goddess
in a longing languishing dream

   draped in splendorous silver stars
aglow in ancient auroral light

her voice resonantvast and holy
   yet with softest falling grace
    and downy as the dawn
whispers from the starry vale
   of embraces dim and tender.

I may see her glory
   only in the dark
her piercing eyes alight
   with vivid violet flame


   illuminates my inward heart
her ardent burning blood in mine.

SheOracle of divinest truth
   for me lifts
Oblivion's dismal shroud
   so that my blinded eyes behold
her pale and shocking beauty
—once hidden and forever lost
    beneath the doleful veil

and reveals unto me
   all the secrets of the night.

O Mistress of my magic art
   Enchantress of my Orphic lyre
with your music strange and sighing
   rippling from the nimbus
come silent on thy sweet and sacred feet
   across Olympus' fields
andmost gracious nymph
   cloak me in your dewy
Nebula of love.

O Muse ever radiant
   Queen of the vernal night

teach me to sing as you do
   with fire, with glory, with light!


Steven Holland
April 10, 2014