Poems of Charles Hice 

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R
Tyrian Hue
R
Tyrian Hue
Tyrian Hue
Reliquary
 NOW eye see your eyes so grave;
the quiet gentle hands that hold the little book
;and your thoughts, brave.
The lined pages that they enfold:
Wistful dreams you'd scarcely dare
through all youve seen your hearts stayed pure
such innocence in man is rare
all the pain and tears endured without self pity or revenge-
still sweet still just and never vain
others might have been unhinged
but your soul is yet unstained
in another age you would have been a poet
a seer of some acclaim,
But you were steered by fate or wind
AWAY from any hint of fame.
Even from comforts none deny:
The road's your home, your roof the sky;
for all of that, you do not sigh.
The last, your heart, you gave to me;
And it more dear than any jewel,
that earth can hide within its dust-
though life and love can both be cruel,
no more demeaned, your fragile trust.
A light at the end of the darkest hours.
Your heart's the only grail I find;
That holy, fragrant field of flowers
myself become beloveds shrine.
 
          
 
 
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