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The Web Poetry Corner - M A Heathcote - If all tides are not consoling

If all tides are not consoling

by

M A Heathcote

The fog is rolling out to sea
On ebbing waves of yellow
Love it is a shawl a shadow
Of the blackbirds dream

And if you care touch wings
With death, life and love
And all immortal things
Caress wings with the dove

Who holds a branching olive?
For in his powers willing
Shall you hear a singing?
The holy seraphs above

Archangels six winged
In canticle choir voice!
Of a love forever tinged
By the stigmata of choice

See the yellow fog is rolling-
Out his blackbirds alighted dream
Love must carry hopes in extreme
If all tides are not consoling!


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