The ancient house has set beyond the hill,
Yet stars recall the grandeur of its reign
And whisper stories when the night is still
How man once stood upon the glacial plain,
Fingers locked and level with the eye
Until the winter broke beneath his feet,
The gnash of snow gods milling with a sigh
A pool so green it seemed an emerald sheet.
What poet swooned before a face as pure,
Or jeweler framed with gold a finer stone?
What softer shade within the sea’s allure
Has sailor or the harbor widow known?
So thought I from the chateau by the lake
In silence till I felt my heart would break.
© William Keller, 2015