Contentment lies
beneath the loam
Of frozen fields as
yet unplowed;
It flies beyond
seraphic skies,
Untouched, unfelt, and
disallowed.
As errant knights
before me rode
For grail bound, ‘neath
rampant shield,
So do I make fearless
quest
And seek contentment’s
bounteous weal.
But whither I? Where
shall I seek
To find the rarest
prize of all?
Where its lodgings,
where under heav’n
Does make its place in
blissful hall?
I know not yet, but
still I find
That I, undaunted,
love this quest:
To find myself, at
once, at last,
Ahold the beautiful
and best.