Bohemia Village Voice

[From ‘Bohemian Bagatelle‘, published 1979 by the Bohemians]

A PHANTASY

The Sea, whose sister is the Moon,

Reflects her beauty as her own;

And spirits formed of shimmering light,

Go dancing down the pathway bright

That leads to where the sky and sea

Meet in perfect harmony.

They sing of caves with sparkling gems

Whence lilies borne on silver stems,

Drawn by the moon, come weaving up,

And opening wide their silver cup

Absorbs the moonbeams’ precious flow

While swaying gently to and fro.

The spirits dancing gaily come

And lead their horses born of foam,

Who neighing, quickly kneel to drink

The lilies’ nectar ere they sink

Down to their jewelled caves to sleep

Among the treasure of the deep.

Then on the surface of the sea

The Spirits gather silently,

And, as the pale moon fades away,

They vanish into the sea and spray;

Their horses, turned to foam once more,

Rest on the pebbles by the shore.

The Sea, whose sister has withdrawn,

Awaits to greet the coming Dawn,

Helen Holmes