Helen and the Sun
The sun called for Helen from his murky sea,
Up every morning, away with the swallows;
He called her name, forever incessantly.
The sun beckoned to Helen ‘twixt covers of grey;
To her window he swam with the morning breeze;
He called upon her through every lonely day.
The sun spoke to Helen, whispers in her ear:
The dead and the living who before her lay;
He told her all the secrets of death and fear.
The sun preached to Helen, he cried to her sad face:
The end, the silence, the withered summer lea;
He beckoned her come reside in his warm place.
The sun waltzed for Helen atop bush and tree,
Ballads of sad promises and speechless soil;
He danced perchance her spirit be one day free.
The sun laughed for Helen, smiled with the bright moon,
Her dark blue eyes on a face so dead and pale;
He laughed for her lest her mouth began to croon.
The sun came to Helen, looked into her eyes:
The empty, sombre heart, words and thoughts so bleak;
He cried a tear for her, she wept like the skies
The sun shone for Helen, would she to his bosom run,
Till the sun ran from Helen and Helen sailed to the sun.