Poetry - The Watcher/The Welcome/A Violin Plays

If my love could see me now

As I traverse the land and sea

Looking down upon the earth

On the girl who once loved me.

If I were of mortal flesh

And on the earth alive

My years would number twenty eight

And hers, just twenty five.

Her heart belongs to another now

His child, to be born soon

And on her breast now rests his head

Not to me but to them belong the stars and moon.

I've often wondered back five years

To Rhodes on a moonlit night

Where she whispered I love you

My heart, my love, my light.

Hand in hand our hearts aflame

Along the cliffs we ran

Stopping every now and then

To say things only lovers can.

Love blinded me and I missed my step

Then to the rocks I hurled

Later in my crimson pool, I heard her softly say

My darling my love we have all the time in the world.

Gentle breeze blow softly on,

Cool my brow till the sun has gone.

Then to the mast my sail to furl,

And row gentle on to meet my girl.

Under stars that seem so near,

My way is lit by moonlight clear.

With unfailing strength to the task I bend.

Onward little boat to journey’s end.

As one by one the stars expire,

And the eastern sky turns red with fire.

My island home rises from the sea,

And upon the beach she waits for me.

Before my boat has come to rest

She's in my arms and with youthful zest

She takes my mind with a lingering kiss

And my boat comes to rest on my island of bliss.

Soft strings play to kindle emotion,

A wave is born out in the ocean,

And the violin plays.

A nightingale sings to an evening breeze.

And autumn undresses the trees of their leaves.

And the violin plays.

Two lovers meet and fill a womb,

While friends are laid in an earthen tomb

And the violin plays.

Guns speak out in a land far away,

As a politician smiles, he's had his say.

And the violin plays.

A child cries in the early dawn.

As the statistics note, another orphan born,

And the violin plays.

A seed gives way to a slender stem,

Two hands reach out, eyes meet, and then,

The violin plays.

All things must pass and begin to fade,

The violin plays until the strings are frayed,

Then the violin its last note has played.