The blue of sea these turquoise jewels shine,
And they effulgence to more for they aren’t mine.
And when observed from afar,
They glisten like the northern star.
Among the grot, these gems are found,
Mingled with the dust and earth.
But illuminate the dingiest search,
For man’s faith and rebirth.
So chaste and bright like the smallest elf,
And so abyssal that you could lose yourself,
In enigmas of the parallel,
Or in the antechambers of blackest hell.
Without them life would surely die,
And with them to forever cry,
The words of auld prophesies:
Fortune!, Glory!, and the bluest turquoise seas.
-Jefferson Davis-
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Your poems stay picturesque Jeffy and often feel magical. This is no exception with its distinct imagery.
Thank you, Susan.
the words and the picture, both gems.
Atyllah, I appoligise for just getting back to you. Thank you very much, for the kind words.
Actually, I took that picture in County Antrim, Northern Ireland. It was a picturesque scene, to say the least. 