To a Doric Column

Dam of Nereids, I cannot see your face,

Poseidon's love gives your girls their haven.

You tower high, your queenly will and grace

Hold up eaves with dusty ikons graven.

Stately stoic pillar transfers under

The grave downthrust of care from earthly gods

So they may soar above you asunder,

Mundane fretting and risk of earthborn odds.

Beauty full but arrayed below your eyes,

You take your standard only from above

And your own pure simplicity despise;

You think that there is naught in you to love.

Downward, inward, soulward turn your gazing

Find the simple truth my rhyme is praising.

Dean Z. Douthat is a retired engineer residing in a senior living facility in Ann Arbor, Michigan