Poem of the Week: The Maid and the Man and the Sea by Anna F.

16 September 2011

I am so very excited about this week's poem because it is by an amazing authoress whom we all know and love.

About the author: Anna is an eighteen-year-old homeschool graduate from Ohio who desires to live her life and love her Savior with all her heart and soul. She's passionate about words and writing, photography, historical costuming, the ocean, musical theatre, Europe, singing, frozen mochas, English Country dancing, and blogging...and likes calling her family of five sisters the Bennets. You can visit her here.

The Maid and the Man and the Sea
By Anna Olivia F. (2009)

A mystic sky cradles in its reachless arms
The rolling waves, thrashing, anxious
Unraveling in an endless dome
Changelessly, haughtily, sweetly
Of wind and sky
Hemmed by the faded horizon line
Away from the ancient craggy cliffs
Beyond the deathless emerald shores
From the heartless grip of the Irish Sea.

The cold sharp wind wildly waltzing
Taunting the waves, embracing the sky
Tossing the withered umber grasses
Whispers across the unbroken stretch
Of rocky sandy shore washed with rugged color
Drifts a wordless song of sorrow and passion
Flying, falling around
The fragrant heath of rain kissed heather.

Against the lifeless sky stands chiseled
The womanly form of a dreamer
Born by the untamed wind
Born by the glorious sea.
The salt laced breezes rustle the tresses
Faded auburn with raven sheen
The enchanted eyes look forth
From the pure wind blown ivory face
Encircled by dancing ringlets
That sweep round its delicate frame.

Dark clouds hover
Above the mournful waters
Billowing, ominous
Flooding the earth with chasing shadows
A low mutter of thunder and then
The rain comes.
Pounding the restless surf
Bending the peaceful tendrils of grass
Sweeping the fair and beautiful face
Blinding the sparkling maiden eyes.
But the storm, this sudden onslaught
Is powerless to drive her away.
For this is her home,
Her soul
The wild seascape and relentless rains
That anchor her spirit only faster in the trodden soil.

A quick step is heard. . .
Hushed is the rain.
Soft footfalls coming over
The rough and muddy shore.
And a voice calls out.
It reaches her ear with a strange unseen beauty
And the lass, in surprise,
Turns about by the wings of the wind.
This time, no longer only she sees
The timeless barren shore
And natures arms offering only
Her bittersweet alms of heaven
. . .but the figure of a man.

He slows his steps, drawing near
And stops.
Her eyes meet his.
His - clear and near and true, roving brown
Her's bright and curious, a ceaseless sheen of jade.
She holds his gaze unwaveringly
His eyes that caress with unsaid love
With their steadfast luster
That reach her deep within
And he speaks.

What is it that he says to her
As the wind brushes his lips
Lifting his words to the blanket of sky
Who is he
This handsome young stranger
That beckons her back to that dusty high road
That runs down the bluff to the sea
Words sweet and edged with yearning
As the calm September rain
That cause her to follow him
And leave her sea behind?

Anyone who adores Ireland like myself can appreciate why I love this poem so much. ♥

Have a good evening, dear ladies! 

P.S. Don't forget to vote for Mrs. Wachter! Her blog was nominated as one of the top 25 family blogs on Circle of Moms. Just click that button on my sidebar --> and vote for Art's Chili Pepper. Every day between now and October 3rd. It's that simple. :) For more information, click here

2 epistles:

  1. How beautiful! I love the imagery in this poem. :) Fantastic job, Anna Olivia! And Miss Elizabeth Rose, if you ever need another weekly poem from someone who could not be called famous, I would be happy to oblige you. ;)~Rachel (The Inkpen Authoress)

  2. Beautiful poem!! I love it. :)



"Gracious words are like a honeycomb; sweetness to the soul and health to the body." —Proverbs 16:24

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