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Dreams of France

Oh, dreams of France! Oh, faded dreams of France!
Ohm France, that I had ever dreamed of thee!
I thought to help thee bear thy brandished lance,
But, lo, I sail the blue Aegean sea!
Sweet thought of thee sill stand before mine eyes
While I lie fettered in this stagnant cage;
Unseen by me the golden Grecian skies,
Forgotten is the Grecian Golden Age.
Drear and dank this stale Ionian bark,
That plods its path alone Aegean ways.
Could I but see old Homer, tall and dark,
And hear the battle-laughter of his lays!
Farewell, oh France! Farewell, thou tortured West!
Bear strong thy shield above thine outraged breast.

poem by Leon Gellert
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In the islands of the Aegean Sea, every island is full of graves.

quote by James Theodore Bent
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In every island of the Aegean Sea are found abundant traces of a vast prehistoric empire.

quote by James Theodore Bent
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Corn Silk

Beautiful, most men would call her
Five foot two, not one inch taller
Her golden hair, a corn silk hue,
Her eyes, a deep Aegean blue.

Sweet William dead, my wife away
We’d meet in secret at a play
At racecourse with box lunch packed
Or at dinners off the beaten track

A polymath, I swear it's true
An amateur musician too
She wrote the songs
and sang them too.

Alas my life's not free to share
She met another, it's only fair
In my memory she never ages-
Just grows more beautiful by stages.

poem by John F. McCullagh
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Ephemeral

Dont want the story to end, stop reading
before the end, take the book back to the
library, I can keep the characters alive in
mid-stride while already submitting to the
charm of the greatest mathematician, the
ship of the desert, the camel enjoying his
lunch for dinner while the ephemeral world
of the Aegean Sea conjured in such archaic
Afrikaans remains a fixed mirage in my heart
unwavering in the air to entice me to join the
fictitious scene and find a new ideal there

poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Mater Dolorosa

JUST as of yore the friendly rain
Patters its old and frank refrain;
Just as of yore the world swings by
The little window where I lie
Watching the shadows wax and wane.

I see, beyond the Aegean main,
His cross upon the grave-scarred plain—
Yet still the dawn-flush climbs the sky,
Just as of yore!

His cross—and mine! They try in vain
With careful phrase to stanch the pain;
They say, ‘A hero’s death!’ But I
Long only for his footstep nigh;
Long only for my boy again,
Just as of yore!

poem by Sydney Elliott Napier
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Orpheus Magic Poetic Music

Orphus 'twas playing
His most magical tune
While Greek soldiers
Fought under blue moon

Tyrants and despots
Bent towards their evil whims
Undaunting acrimony
Their foul mouths spin

But in the distance
Near the Aegean Sea
Orpheus's music
Has inticed little me

The Oracle announced him
'He's magic' The oracle bemused
Poetry came to me
I so very enthused

[...] Read more

poem by Theodora Onken
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Rivals

From long time friends to bitter foes
From boon companions to friends estranged
The cute little redhead accomplished that
but it was nothing she'd prearranged
So delicate, so beautiful
with eyes a deep Aegean blue
Of course I made a play for her
She wasn't going home with you
Yes, her kisses were as sweet
as you imagined they must be
The reality was better still
warming an autumn evenings chill
I was the first to take the risk
that’s why I was the one she kissed
My actions weren’t the least bit shady
but faint hearts never win fair Ladies

poem by John F. McCullagh
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Soldiers at Peace

Mourn not for these, the children of the spring :
On Flemish plains and far Aegean sand,
Mourn not for these, who had no perishing !
Hang high their swords in churches greatly spanned !
Whose deeds have spoken so, beyond our tears,
Their spirits live, needing no other voice
Above the dimming valley of the years
They live anew, immortal by their choice.

The soldiers' peace of their imagining
has fallen here. The whirling leaves are still:
Deep in the shadow of the rainwashed hill,
A lustre and a quietude art shed,
When all the valley streams are glimmering,
And the moon swims from the storm-wrack overhead.

poem by Herbert Asquith
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Lady Of Gold

Dreams from Vienna, vernal troubadours
Violins play soft, cafes in romantic light
French poets with symbols of rebellious mirth
Walk the ancient streets, parades of ghosts

Cobble stone, centuries, clocks, silver myth
Surrealistic images from the sea of Kings
Royal crimson halls where queens smile
Crystal glasses of gentry, castles, carriages

Narrow roads roll through the Alps
Aegean verse from a sea of Keats
Spanish romance with eye's of fire
Crimson goddesses in castles of Italy

Paris and Rome under a full moon
Dance the night in satin dresses
Mediterranean art in moonlit soul
My elegant love is a lady of gold

poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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