The Only Alchemist in England

The only immortal in England
a lonely life can it seem
Red and black eggs the daily routine

A nature in light does it weave
King after King
Queen after Queen
the wise rising in the roots of oil
and their kin

The Sun and Moon
conceive a son in the end
Nature has bore a new work too begin

but lifetimes ago
you still remember the breeze
as the Spanish set out too rule the sea

The only immortal in England
a quiet life can it be
the world as a stage
and Time as its dream


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The Riddle of the King:
Here is born the king of all glory
There cannot be any created
Greater in the world than he
Neither by Art nor Nature
Of what living creature soever
The Philosophers call him their son
He effecteth all things which they do
And whatsoever men expect of him
He giveth continual health
Gold, Silver and precious stones
He giveth fortitude, long life, beauty
And Purity. He expelleth Anger,
Sorrow, Poverty and diseases
Blessed is he on whom God bestows this gift.

The Answer of Luna the Queen:

Here is born a noble and a rich Queen
Whom the Philosophers liken unto their Daughter
She multiplies and brings forth infinite Children
Free from all hurt impurity and spot
She expels death and hates poverty
She gives wealth, health, honour
And all good things
She excels Gold, Silver and precious stones
And all medicines both precious and simple
There is nothing on the whole face of the Earth
That may be compared unto her
For which give endless thanks to the great God of Heaven.

a reply to: kibric

Well there, very nice!

a reply to: Quantum12

thanks

a reply to: kibric

Your welcome and I hope you write more!