Acaste

By: Peladoris Posted on: September 26, 2007

Acaste

Green and gold. Sun on the ocean.
Emerald shallows. Breaking waves.
Glitter hides thalassic dangers,
Beckons men to watery graves.

Green grass sways. The sand is golden.
Wind blows from the sea to strand.
Off the shore, but not so far
She cannot be descried from land

One at home in wave and weather
Sits with bearing of a queen.
Acaste's hair runs down her shoulder,
Harp against it, gold on green.

Shallows wash her plain white wrap.
Her ornaments are simple things.
Music sounds. Acaste's fingers
Bring a tune from golden strings.

Sounds inseparate from nature
Waft ashore and out to sea.
Sweet melodic pearls are crafted
By her speechless mastery.

For as long as harpsong holds here
Nothing moves and nothing breathes.
Hearers are bespelled by beauty
As the wind that stills the reeds.

Waves break, but as part and chorus
Of Acaste's coastal tune,
Changeful as a dragonfly,
Entrancing as a Nairat rune.

Time resumes. The Sea Lord's harpist
Finishes and dives to go
Homeward, to her master's temple
In Riparium, far below.

Listeners, released, remember
Vestiges of all they heard.
In time they will think it only
Voice of wind or song of bird.

But their hearts are changed forever.
Henceforth will their very souls
Echo with reverberation
Of the music on the shoals.

Neraeos rules the mighty oceans.
Makiradekha guards them well.
Sharks and other lesser fishes
Swim and feed where Tritons dwell.

Treasures rich there are, but richest
Never could one win or hold:
Mute Acaste's fingers singing,
Singing on her harp of gold.