Miscellaneous poems


To the horseman who dismounted at the
bolted castle gate,
the fifteen blasts upon a golden trumpet
were a modest price to pay for entry.

To the lady in the windy tower,
wild with visions of deliverance,
the years of waiting were a welcome test.

The door was closed,
the stairway barred
to those who took their pleasures easily, or
fell away from faith.

To those who sought a constant star,
the path was clear,
though artful snares ensured that progress
was conditional.

Too few they were who won their way
to where the horseman stood, the trumpet at
his lips,
while from the window high above
there waved the joyful handkerchief.

First published in Ocarina.