Bright Pavilions


In the distance, I can see them still—
     Bright pavilions on a far green hill
     With banners flying in the breeze.

We were part of that fair company
     Riding to a gathering in spring;
     We tarried beneath the budding trees.

Our hearts grew light on festive nights,
     Joining hands and dancing in a circle
     To the sounds of mandolin and harp.

We pledged our vows, were blessed with child.
     After many years had passed, we rested
     On the grounds of a tumbledown abbey.

No one visits now, the sounds of merriment
     Are hushed. Our tunics and light gowns
     Have been laid away in winter store

Until that signal day in freshest May
     No farther than an easy morning's ride,
     When songs return and banners fly.


©2016 Michael Fraley




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