The Emily Isaacson Institute
: Discover poetry through the eyes of Emily. . .

 
 
From The Firestone Theatre

I.

Where, in the meadow,

the fields are spun

gold, and the quiet

countryside appealing

the steeple’s song,

last rung and bearing

to tale of an archer in arms.

 

Here, the wildflower bears witness

to a country’s distrust of 

the natural world

to bear it a Queen, impartial,

royal and just.

 

Stigma laid open to a crown,

be she fair, the world resound,

and unloved, she wanders.

 

I, the sole proprietor, do receive

news of my unfailing jest—

to receive paramount image

and stone’s throw to the patriarch.

 

    Emily Isaacson

II.

In this world or the next,

I shall find myself at rest,

in the appropriate time, blest,

mother of many children.

 

When they shall do me good, not harm

I shall come around and gather them,

singing, that they might receive

the stringent arms of Scotland.

 

All hail to this majestic court,

where above we find our

jury, judge and witness,

a moment’s call to duty’s end

upon a road not taken.

 

    Emily Isaacson

 

III.

Oh woe, and such a tale to bear

of stately children lost and

without wind to drive them,

open to the stateman’s cause

to open fire at none lest

harm deceive them.

 

Right on a border, homeless,

now they walk and Shelter

spreads her wings to guide them,

refugees to a foreign post,

and weeping at the inquiet.

 

Never trust the stranger’s bed

never weep, lest force

bequeath thee,

myriad of weaponry,

just and sure is the path.

 

   Emily Isaacson

IV.

Where, in the distance, time relents

and stakes its claim on watery grave,

the ships of sea, still in their ports,

and lemons, shipped to Turkey.

 

The olive and the rose shall grow

the cedar and the wine now age,

the morning of the next time rift

to glow on faces, shining 

and the night, an open book of stars. 

 

     Emily Isaacson

 
 

Content c. 2010 The Emily Isaacson Institute