Nine Muses
<p>Can we walk a line so fine unto Elysian fields<br />
Here to there; and move to break another seal<br />
Thus abide by bold quest upon hallowed ground<br />
As seven sacred trumpets wail their woes in blessed sound<br />
Has not the prophet promised his kingdom be at hand<br />
Heretofore Mozart mentioned, so too Jupiter, Saturn’s son<br />
Apollo’s oracle too forewarned such times were apt to come<br />
The Elysium holy waters helped to cleanse that sacred way<br />
Nine muses sang along while nymphs were lost in nature’s play<br />
Yet now the fields lie fallow, once sown of wheat and hay<br />
They lay beyond Oceanus, out beyond the western plains<br />
’Tis there we shall meet when night again turns into day<br />
And greet the sun by kingdom come upon the misty morn<br />
Ever onward drawn to Polaris, true north whence it is fixed<br />
To venture that rare meadow lying beyond the River Styx<br />
Silently cross by Hades’ cavern where Persephone once fell<br />
Now among the fire and brimstone that even Dante might call Hell<br />
And all the while we dream our love whilst risking such a fall<br />
To seize the day, count the ways, like Horace, Shakespeare et al<br />
This is where it leads, I know, the path to be explored<br />
But risk your heart on me my love, for faith must be restored<br />
Ofttimes true north, a lonely course, may as suddenly turn south<br />
To leave fortuitous that destiny — whereby wise counsel must espouse</p>
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