Poem

Finis

There is naught but honour a man can save
When the little ship founders beneath the wave;
Embrace the waters that slay whom they lave,
Or defy their strength lest you die their slave;
Though the end's still death with never a grave,
And only God sees the coward, the brave -
At his throne we have still our honour to save.

Inspired by Greece

Oinochoe-type pitcher with trefoil lip and pulled handle, unglazed earthenware fired to Orton cone 05

ceramics by Amy Myers

Sonnet

Sonnet to the Moon

Oh gracious Moon, that lamps our silent hours,

Embodies Night's kind benison of light,

That treads the path blazed when the sun is white

But turns it to a bliss of star-filled bowers,

What have you seen of love and of delight,

And brightened joys with silver moonbeams fair?

What have you seen of sorrow and despair,

And strove to soften grief with silver light?

How often have I longed your gentle silver linger here?

Give me your blessing, Moon; the heavens pale and Day is near.

A Desert Jewel