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Saturday, April 5, 2014

Tatterdemalion

Tatterdemalion daughter of mayhem, arise:
Saintly Magdalen, misprized gem, arise!

Above the law, above the teeming fray,
Above the voices that condemn: arise!

From dark alley, from city blight, behold,
These orient stars--your diadem! Arise,

Flee from censorious lips and groping clutches:
You're too dear for the likes of them. Arise!

Why should you knuckle under or pay heed
To the churlish critic's apothegm? Arise:

Bring the gift of your bruised and battered heart
To the bed of the Babe in Bethlehem. Arise!

Suffering soul, the dust whereon you tread,
Sings pride's farewell, wrath's requiem: arise.

Thomas, sing praise full-throated to this rose;
Bless every thorn upon her stem. Arise!

2 comments:

  1. I've been traveling, so I'm just catching up on my blog-reading. This is lovely! (And having only completed one ghazal, I find myself humbled by yours and eager to write another one of my own...)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you, Jeff! I am supremely gladdened by your very kind words.

    ReplyDelete

Without You

Without you, life's a hole without a sock, A fruitless rind, some coffee-grounds (no brew): Sarcastic stars can only jeer and mock. ...