Bastille Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Do you wait for reckless half moons
Theater without pomegranates
Doves as empty as icons
I wait for your frail rose
Hope that knows stars
Come to me in the moonlit silk
Lattice as charming as wanton lions
Lanterns of the old world

Our hands pray for resolution
We are tents in the desert
Surrounded by solemn winds
Your sacred candle burns late
I whisper like a fire
Opium islands cry like Chloe s
Spain has wept
Swords of Paris subdue writers
White shells by Dover hail the tide
Cruelty is the staid and defined

I have seen your dungeon
Poems of gold birds
Our morals like Egyptian sand
I watch you sleep in the Crusades
Courts of the glass Panther
Your dreams in the Bastille