OLD MASTERS OF ZEUS
Petticoated in cloud ... Old masters of Zeus;
Spying for millions, upon non-uniformed minions.
Whisper'd secrets cross valleys, rain-riched and humming;
Gilded gifts for Africa on the blazon of Boreas.
Shelter for the Exiled, driven from their stoves;
Once trampled by treason of Nazi-boot stomp.
A cemetry in quarters for flesh-robbed ideals;
An outsider's unholy war; no guilt, the olive groves!
Cut-outs pressed against wall of blue
Flattened by distance and setting sun.
Blinded by the night to another dimension,
Are once again purpled by dawn's rosy hue.
Maureen Walsh - February 2011
Ciao for Now!
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