between the raindrops
fluttering dead leaf conducts
a magpie chorus
-
-
sun like an oven
bakes the grass golden brown, and
smelling of dead sheep -
reflected sunbeams
cast a zig-zag pattern, on
the carpet floor -
dusty brown galls
bulge on twig-tips, promising
an unknown crop -
Ours is a bond as strong as night and day,
Built on the bedrock of an age gone by:
A truth no mortal peril can betray
Passion no star-crossed portent could deny
Ours is a love that knows no beck nor bound:
That arcs across the sky, from realm to realm
And while these hands have strength to steer a helm,
We'll meet, as surely as the Earth is round.
Ours is a right more just than right and wrong:
To bear each other up, from phrase to phrase,
Amend our discords to a stronger song
And dance triumphant when the trumpets play.
This is a love so strong, so clear, and true
No deed is sin, that's done because of you -
January 31st
yellow! purple!
mild-mannered leaves give way
to patterned flowers -
One still morning
The great pear tree lies fallen
Broken by the storm -
Avenge me!
Burn my name
Blatant in the cold hide
Of the killing beast that cut me down
Heal me!
Hold up gold, diamonds
High at the holiest shrines
Of red, green, rushing, beating
Life
Wealth, wine, weapons, spent
To see me breathe again
Celebrate me!
Light me a pyre to out-burn mountain-tops
To out-shine beacons
Drown the rushing tide
Chanting my honours
Long into the dawn
Remember me!
Write me down in the Red Books
Sing the new epics
Mine in the list of names that go never un-sung
And when there is peace
When you sit by the hearth-fires
Old, young, and children
Tell them of me
Tell them
I was bold
Tell them
I am goneDedicated to a friend’s Pathfinder character, who fell in battle.
Who has now, luckily, returned. -
against these bright
oversaturated leaves:
pink neon roses -
pale butterfly
alights between the bees, on
pale lavender
Jenkins Rising 