The Muse and the Maestro

  Before there were den gods and this was that

  When none could wake and all would deathless rest

  The hum or buzz, the mist of breath would plait

  A single thing would plan their great egress

  Vibrato low, a pulse of rhapsody

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  Prime deific sound, the thrumming pump so great

  Is the humming drums of Ped’nryth's heartbeat

  And so commence the marching line of fate

  Ped’nryth would pound upon their drum to which

  Muse and Maestro from emergent clearings

  His lips on her, each kiss a star and stitch

  To map her skin the space between love's wings

  Constellations rise, form the sky at night

  Hidden by Kesh as part of our contrite

  From "Dallathvos and other Stanzas" by Saint Tomevel Raleigh the Suitable