LOVE IN DESTRUCTION CITY.

Blimey! I just found a file containing a book of verse by the aforementioned title that I put together years ago and forgot about! So it will be getting published some time soon. Meanwhile, here is one of the poems from it.



Things Undone (copyright Steve Cook)


Was Alexander plagued by things undone,
Whose conquests never thwarted dreams assuaged,
Whose strident tale of empires won
Seemed merely scratches on an empty page?

Was he haunted by the verse he could not write,
Did he long to strum the lyre he could not play?
Knew he love the awe of others never could requite,
Or “almosts” thwarted by the shortness of his days?

And of the Bard who timeless epics wrote,
Whose beauty shineth still undimmed by time,
How oft the furrowed bardic brow he smote
In anguish for the one elusive rhyme

That left unsung his praise for heroes most admired
‘Gainst whose deeds his own he measured second best,
His works at best a Moon whose light expires,
First borrowed then eclipsed by the sun of their success.

What of Christ or Buddha who wondrous truths did teach,
Who millions plucked from dark on both sides of the grave?
Came they in death to peace for the multitudes they reached
Or was their last thought grief for those they could not save?

And God basking in the wonders of His realm,
All the splendors spun from the glory of His mind,
Does He well pleased upon creation smiling dwell
Or is He troubled still by the many flaws He finds?

It seems for all that’s said and done, there’s more
Undone, unsaid that sees our satisfaction felled,
So much in others we could envy, yet more admire,
That only others recognize the glory in ourselves

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