The Secret Well...

The Secret Well

There is a secret well I’ve found...
Uncovered while on summit quest
With faithful friend, a Knight renowned
Who led me through the sharpest crags
Bloodied and bruised, his honored guest

There is a secret well I’ve found...
He gave to me, though I was torn
To guard her best, a thorny crown
And diadem of clearest gold
Invisible, when humbly worn

There is a secret well I’ve found
Her moisture washed my open hurt
My wine, poured I, upon the ground
The grapes of wrath, no longer tilled
My flask, canteened her sweet dessert

There is a secret well I’ve known...
My hiding place of priceless worth
Near heights, where summer snows are blown
By spiraled stone, her depth secured
Strong tower, buried in the earth

There is a secret well I’ve known...
Her waters, deep, have held my prize
Refreshing to my thirsting groan
Mercy and truth, my trampled path
That brought me before her eyes

There is a secret well I’ve known...
I steal away, when moon is late
And see its twin, when beams are sown
As I look deep, my shallowed soul
Her stream of mercy tugs, and waits

There is a secret well I’ve known...
Where azure pools reflect the sky
And I, beside her wall of stone
Do rest and dream by weathered strength
A comfort knowing, I, nearby

There is a secret well I’ve known...
When gasping day was void of cloud
Smothering heat, dust winds have blown
I’d climb to find virescent eyes
That cooled the sting of peering crowd

There is a secret well I’ve known...
That gave me sight when blindness came
My vision, cataracts to stone
As flinty judgments sparked the air
Her water doused, as gentle rain

There is a secret well I’ve known
When I lay down, her silence bid
To drown the noise and fear I owned
And bathed me there, by trickling notes
Her song ascends that once was hid

There is a secret well I’ve known...
My perforated life she saved
Deep raging waters overflowed
The carelessness of men did hide
She shook the world where they behaved

There is a secret well I’ve known...
Where I did sip, left lost for change
My rope and pail, too short a phone
To reach and hear her love once more
Her deep tried to call my name

There is a secret well I’ve known...
Whose depth of face both leapt and ran
Stilled mirror, framed by pain unshown
Until the numb in me awoke
Beside her pool, this blinded man

There is a secret well I’ve known...
That cooled my brow when I insane
And heard her sweet and echoed moan
To lean so far, my balance lost
I fell into her well of pain

There is a secret well I’ve known...
Her waters catch by liquid glove
This broken, bittered man... alone
And mends him by stilled waters, dark
At last, he drowns within her love

There is a secret well I’ve known...
My trampled path, her Knight has found
When I, too wearied, seemed as gone
He bowed, and held my secret, while
I, hopeless to sip her sacred sound

There is a secret well I’ve known...
Her agony of soul ignored
My muzzled tongue, a dismal drone
No words of wine, no oil held I
No healing tide, to wash her shore

There is a secret well I’ve known...
Her waters fed by heaven’s stream
Vast reservoir, stone heart to hone
To him who fell, unbalanced there
Saved from her pain, her answered dream

There is a secret well I’ve known...
Her waters fed by hidden stream
Vast reservoir, a seamless home
To him who fell, unbalanced there
Saved by her pain, his answered dream

There is a secret well I’ve known...
Her shrouded ache, had I betrayed
That wounded, too, still-waters prone
My bitter root rippled the sweet
Until her Knight, by ransom, paid

There is a secret well I’ve known...
No more her trust believes me...tell
For I had lost her inner tone
That her dear Knight entrusted me
A banished life, my secret, fell

There is a secret well I’ve known...
None closer would I want with me
But now, a man of broken bones
Who cannot walk above the shame
A maddening thirst, with no reprieve

There is a secret well I’ve known...
My love, my life, for life I knew
For thirty years, her waters loaned
To wash this man wounded, and slain
By closest friend, in public view

There is a secret well I’ve known
She suffered long and envied not
Rejoicing truth, her waters cloned
Bore all, believed and hoped, endured
Her life, gave love, each dulcet drop

There is a secret well I’ve known...
Her depths for him, no longer toll
His loss, too much for words, alone
A mute, is he, and deaf for love
When he was silenced, from her soul

There is a secret well I’ve known...
She effervesced, a mist arose
and bubbled up from depths condoned
That he, alone, drank deep inside
No more, for him, her fountain closed

There is a secret well I’ve known...
But now, this man, a silenced bell
Without her touch, a hollowed cone
A dunce’s cap, all heaven sees
For he believes love never fails

There is a secret well he knew...
Her fluid cache, his hidden mine
Where he communed with hues of blue
And ate his bread, broken and blessed
Her water, there, his sacred wine

There is a secret well he knew...
Where he would rest and deeply look
Beyond the roily, surfaced view
His silent love, nothing to prove
His speechlessness, a man forsook

There is a secret well he knew...
Dark lords, fought he, no mercy made
They only seek his ruin, through
Their only means, his cherished well
For him to lose her love, betrayed

There is a secret well he knew...
It’s why he fought, to see her free
And where he fought, for love anew
And who he fought, not flesh and blood
To shift the heavens to agree

There is a secret well he knew...
Near her, fell he, by twisted dart
This man of grief acquainted, too
Besetting joy endured the pang
Between his shoulder bladed heart

There is a secret well he knew...
This man of briars, blood bramble, slain
Left naked there, with tattered clews
To give his life, for her to take
By wanting nothing of his name

There is a secret well he knew...
No greater way of slaying, sent
No way, to gage its magnitude
No hope, extended to his lips
No mercy, for this heart is meant

There is a secret well, he hides
Within his parting soul, a lust
That he, unable to confide
This desperate man was overcome
By loss, to gain her heart and trust

There is a secret well, inside
She felt his presence slip from there
No more to turn his love aside
No more, cupped hands, that held her heart
No more, to hear his sorrowed prayer

There is a secret well, beside
His lifeless tent, no more to dance
For he had hoped, and ached, and died
Disjointed man, that longed to dare
And share with her the Great Romance

There is a secret well, for now...
His heart, betrothed forever, there
In righteous judgment gave the vow
By lovingkindness, blood did flow
That plucks the deepest, rooted tare

There is a secret well, t’was known...
Her knight of sorrow, forlorn, dies
His orison, on wing, is flown
By messengers, not of this earth
That her dear Knight is glorified

There is a secret well, ‘twas said
Her Sterling Knight heard heaven’s breath
As heaven heard the earthly dread
Her man of sorrows gave the gift
And fell asleep in her Knight’s breast

There is a secret well, alone...
Her other loves, consoled for good
That she be thawed from frozen stone
Only when struck did nurture flow
His secret well, he understood

There is a secret well, his pledge
To take her, always, as he waits
He, sane or not, to set the hedge
That she be safe within the thorns
That in his life she came to hate

There is a secret well, his love
His starving heart, some say unhinged
For hell had seemed intent to shove
He fought like madness, no retreat
No respite now, no victory binge

There is a secret well, t’was known...
Her Knight of Sterling vows an oath
To see her trusting love, re-grown
And pardon all who broke her hope
And seek again, who loves her most

this made me feel...i don't feel often anymore. and, in fact, i would like to cry.

your poem will probably be moved, btw to the personal poetry section. ;) quite the intro, though!

one stanza was repeated twice in succession:

Quote:

---

There is a secret well I’ve known...
Her waters fed by hidden stream
Vast reservoir, a seamless home
To him who fell, unbalanced there
Saved by her pain, his answered dream

---

Welcome to the Lit forum, goddog1.

nice writing and rhythmic, but is drowned out in the repetition of the first line and length. thanks for sharing!

Thank you for the kindness, and yes, my ignorance of navigation is showing... yet the stanzas in question are the same... but for one word.

mea culpa...i need to pay closer attention. thank you for the correction!

Thank you for your time and suggestions. I do so appreciate your input...

Starlight Seeks Galileo

I wonder if she knows this man...
her Galileo... who seeks her light
and fights the darkness with a squint
and follows moonbeams where she’s been
and soft starsigns for where she went
her trail for him that ends too soon

he counted craters on the moon

I wonder if she knows this man...
technology would bless his quest and call
as telescope held near his chest... to rise
and fall from heart to eye, to focus both,
light-years apart... but closer than they once were
a million times he saw the sky... and lunar dunes

he counted craters on the moon

I wonder if she knows this man...
who read the universe by math... a language learned
by gazing nights... plotting the path of cursive arcs,
geometry, letters of triangles and circles turned,
who saw and learned and heard the dark
heavenly words and prose in tune

he counted craters on the moon

I wonder if she knows this man...
who measures all he sees and seeks a tool
to measure the infinite... his passion season, yet
authority of a thousand is never equal to the reason
of a humble hearted hunter... a fool... who said Earth
“Epur si muove” as a solar wind balloon

he counted craters on the moon

I wonder if she knows this man...
who daily fought enlightened mobs who
never dared to think... debate...critical mass
they cast, his questioned slew did slay piety,
infinities and finites, powerful... he knew
blind clerics... thought he crazy as a loon

he counted craters on the moon

I wonder if she knows this man...
who understood the Scripture clock
by revelation he unlocked secrets for
the common man... that the Bible says more
when the author breathes as hearts explore
for truth, not just the true... no less opportune

he counted craters on the moon

I wonder if she knows this man...
who knew he blessed with intellect, that
his God gave to question well the imperfect
and mysteries misunderstood... he would pursue
to worship well by labored love and wisdom overdue
his courage swirled as a typhoon

he counted craters on the moon

I wonder if she knows me now...
her Galileo Galilei... one
who held the priceless key, that also
ignorance in men can teach me lessons,
understand..from their tiny, tidy glee... they
toast from a static earth saloon

I too, count craters on my moon

I wonder if she’ll hold me still...
I count the wounds... my lunar heart... marred
fresh aware of impact pain, a silent plane
no voices heard... a witness scar
why tides, like clockwork, ebb and swoon

he counts the beauty of her moon

I marvel how she pulls me so...
Her starlight shines, both warm and clean
a fission heat that melts my lips, and winks
and waits beside our choices seen
I hide within her sweet eclipse

to hold the beauty of her kiss

upon this plane, time bathes it’s prey
to wrinkle all...without
hiddenly found, a deposed guest
when prey does wear anothers crown
mirrored in pool’s liquid nest

by diadem, prey seeks to rise
above this plane time bathes
bright sightful gain, a panoply,
whose weight his arms cannot maintain
panicked loss of buoyancy

baptismal silence; single thought
beneath this plane time bathes
decisive choice uncrowns his dread,
relinquished to the banished voice,
deeper than the prey can tread

but when prey’s guest is asked to host
within this plane time bathes
reflective heir usurps the prey
none to contest his regal care
and washes time’s wear away

gone, too, the scars time cannot heal
upon this prey time bathes
internal peaks and troughs made plane
when seamless grace silently speaks
and these curdled billows tamed

fresh showers wept, from higher clouds
into this plane time bathes
exchanged...the drool that time condensed
when righteous waves dew-kissed this pool
intercession’s misty rinse

augustic guest: host’s presence sensed
throughout this plane time bathes
where wrinkles held a private pain
time’s hungry hounds, at last, are quelled
when prey’s guest allowed to reign

Witness

I need a witness
to my life...
a blond blue eyed
one... unlike any
before... to see me
up close and unafraid
to err for love's sake
who sees my best
and worst of days
and speak the words
that tell it real
to bend this reed
toward her breath
my witness... mine alone
that I too may tell the tale
proclaim her strengths
and catch the falls that trip
her heart and guard her well
I... just I... to grow her trust
and share the fruit of her
deep spring... that washes me
as no other... my witness of
life and love and all between

Man, what a fantastic poem! I had to read it three times to understand why it was called "Witness", but both the title and the allusion seem perfectly fitting! well done!