White Strand of the Monks
16" x 19"
acrylic / canvas

Cutting through the shining sea in monster head ship
they sailed from northern sky,
thoughts of gain behind wheat hued hair
not yet bloody hands upon axe and sword
and plunder eyes on the white beach isle.

They sat and painted holy page
in words ordained and shapes fantastic
in sanctum simplicity the men of peace,
their rough hands turned to art
their rough hearts turned to love.

The Nordic nightmares flew up upon
Columba's sacred soil
how l throated and with mean intent
they fell upon the men of God
with warrior's gusto.

And still upon the blood white sand
in riven homespun robes they lie,
inked fingers stiff and red
their life's work interrupted
. . . And God if He is wont to grieve
now sobbing unconsoled.