The Flemish Poet in Denmark

Circles of fire
Lower us, harsh shore.
“Why are we here?”
The muse nods east.

Rocky cliffs morph castle
Outline, a glow
In the tallest pinnacle,
Resembles fiery gold.

Gwen’s hair drapes against
The window light,
She remembers passion songs
Sung by lovers on sonnet beach.

Wailing wafts in sea breeze,
Songs of tempered temperament,
An essence presence comes,
Mists surrender, revealing Gwen.

Moon gate glows, she sits there, to
Hear her Flemish Poet recite anon.
She nods to her lover,
He sings for her.

Goddess of love,
Behold your servant.
Life waters flow true as
They near you, the source
Of all that is good, pure, and
Blessed by those residing forever
West, breathe peace with you, my love.