Ode to Iberia
Poem by Peter T. Kennedy, Sr.
The circle was rounded Great courts were founded And the seas were marked in stone But stubborn heads and restless hearts would not leave well enough alone They set their sight on the escaping sun To do those deeds that could not be done On strange seas the tempest swirled Ne’r Neptune sway nor Mars’ play could deny them a new world A warrior is ne’er at peace Without foe, or savage beast But battles best with treasure to seek Stokes the hearth that burns to win his Lady’s shrine upon the peak Now in temples dressed in gold Delicate hands strain to hold That light that once burned bright for days Not extinguished, but untended; turned from luster to a haze Colored banners, arms of war Fixed in halls, with tales of yore In dark places, once a torch to thrust Now wrapped in velvet, a prison free from clashes, chips and rust The thread of time, stored on a spool A man of iron, now named a fool From light to shadows faces turned Looking out to where the spirit of a civilization and history burned Remember those realms an empire claimed The very soil needing to be tamed Land is not barren, when for it blood was shed Awake, ye sons, and bring the light back from the dead -Peter T. Kennedy Sr. July 31, 2026 © Peter T. Kennedy 2026
