I Could Be Your Ferdinand

An acrostic, the only one I ever did by choice. Loosely based on The Tempest, except I've never actually read it. The final two lines belong to the aerial, even though the poem doesn't say it.

I Could Be Your Ferdinand

 

 

Miranda, the Imperiled

Is this to be my bitter end?

     This rain so mars the sea’s retreat;

Could I but stand, against this wind

     I might command these wayward feet,

Or eyes, which e’er, I must turn down

     To save myself from going blind

Under this maelstrom, o’er the ground.

     I chance a look--alas, I find

Less than before, a growing dark

     That seems to part its jaws for me--

Deceive me, like some blackguard lark.

     Now lights, the sky! --What’s that, I see?

But yonder, through this stormy jail,

     A ship that flies salvation’s sails!

 

Ferdinand, the Savior

Elope with me, sweet pinioned bird,

    Away from this, and treachery;

You are the song that I have heard,

     That’s called to me across the sea!

On Zephyr’s wings, I answered you--

     Now take my hand; and this, my ring;

Until the heavens split in two,

     Miranda, you shall be my Queen.

Rise, now; we take to sweeter skies--

     The sea will plot our honeymoon--

For now, I’m captive to your eyes,

     Your kiss, and everything you do.

Escape with me, sweet little dove,

     And all the world won’t stop our love.

 

Prospero, the Jealous

Return to me my wayward kin,

     Who, even now, eludes your storm;

Do not forget your debt, my friend--

     My patience is so nearly worn.

Injustice, has this boy wrought here;

     How steep, the price that he will pay--

No man will claim what I hold dear,

     And live to know another day!

Anon, the aerial did light

     Where, twain, our lovers lay as one;

No words, could that poor spirit find

     To smother their new kindled love.

Descend on me, what Fates decree;

     Your lives belong, now, to the sea.