I'm a pirate... arrrr

Hi everyone,

Here's my crack at Kate's challenge, which is described in the post just below this one (if you haven't read that yet, you'll probably want to scroll down, read that, and then come back up here - Blogger displays the most recent posts first, which is annoying at times).

Anyway, poor Robert Frost is probably spinning like a top in his grave right now. Enjoy!

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?

-- Robert Frost, "Reluctance"

Ah, when to the heart of man
A wakening touch comes creeping,
Stealing over a dead simulacrum,
And whispering gently "Stop sleeping,"
Warm blood surges into numb flesh,
Now alive with pain, weeping.

Was it ever less than a treason
To lure with a careful measure
Of wild joyful sweetness, a taste
Of pure and unparalleled treasure,
Then snatch up the cup, leaving only
A hunger for pleasure?

To go with the drift of things,
Retreat into circumvallation
That steadfastly held off the sieges
Is no more a worthy temptation.
Every instinct flies into revolt,
Despite the obligation

To yield with a grace to reason,
To tally the damage done,
To gaze with clear eyes at the limits
Of this battlefield sere in the sun,
To ponder the possible ways,
And admit there are none.

And bow and accept the end,
The foregone conclusion,
Gather what threads can be salvaged,
And patch up a cherished illusion,
And wrapped in this poor shabby cloak,
Succumb to confusion.

Of a love or a season?
The question reposes, unspoken,
In the pall that hangs in the air
And sad fingers clutching a token:
A heart risen up from the dead
Just to be broken.