A man had three sons
The first was quick as tempered steel,
Bright-eyed springing to mischief;
Sudden to feel
The blade of grief.
The next was weighted with delight
As a fruitful apple bough,
Eyes to joy bright,
Crowned gold with laughter the brow.
The third lay soft as May bloom
Sleeping within the sunlit room.
A man had three sons
The first in kingdoms of the word
Leaping eagerly to fight,
Took his sword
To pierce the blind world with light.
The second compelled the dark earth
Before his joy to yield,
Bringing to birth
A golden summer field.
Within a woman's arms, the third
Dreamt love the only golden word.
Copyright © Bernard Gilhooly - All Rights Reserved
The first was quick as tempered steel,
Bright-eyed springing to mischief;
Sudden to feel
The blade of grief.
The next was weighted with delight
As a fruitful apple bough,
Eyes to joy bright,
Crowned gold with laughter the brow.
The third lay soft as May bloom
Sleeping within the sunlit room.
A man had three sons
The first in kingdoms of the word
Leaping eagerly to fight,
Took his sword
To pierce the blind world with light.
The second compelled the dark earth
Before his joy to yield,
Bringing to birth
A golden summer field.
Within a woman's arms, the third
Dreamt love the only golden word.
Copyright © Bernard Gilhooly - All Rights Reserved