~ Thoughts On Homer From a Garden in Wales ~ By ~ Ulysses ~
While sat upon air amid
gardens, I dreamt once
a vision of ruin and glory.
It burst from ancient pages newly pressed,
the bard of which may never have lived.
His beard of stone formed
of marble, an illustrious prize.
His words they echo in the halls
of centennia. The grey eyes
of Athena awash with life.
As rosy fingers of sunlight
shone through emerald leaves,
My hands shook like Priams as
he looked down from above.
The arrows and spears flew by my ears.
Tears formed as the foam
of the sea-god’s rage
Spattered amongst boats.
O, to return from the time
when the blood of men lined
the bellies of roams as they lashed
the plains. To sit moist-eyed in
South Walian light, checking the sky for rain.
Artwork Composition/Photography by Dewin Nefol: https://dewinnefol.wordpress.com/
~ Image of Homer Bust from Google Search, origin unknown ~