Beneath the bends of Barrymore
On the southwest winds she chants some more
The clouds scoot by beneath the moon
Some say she is crazy like the loon
Dressed in black she cackles back
Tossing ashes from a sack
She throws her body down
And moans and sobs into the ground
A dagger she does draw it forth
Holding it up for all it's worth
She shrieks and damns her birth
Then plunges it into her heart . . .
so ends the life of the despised young tart
Now the owls come silently in
Alighting next to still warm skin
All walk around the disposed young beast
Only uttering "Who" to say the least
Then the Great Owl comes fluttering in
He'd be giant if made like men
He collectively surveys the scene
Takes a few steps before saying a thing
"Take her body to Evermore"
The great one orders and does implore
And all the owls take to wing
Holding the remains of the breathless thing
They take her earthy shell away
To the land as some would say
To the sacred woods of Evermore
Yes sacredness in evermore
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Author:
swingline (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 8th, 2017 05:40
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
Offline)
Comments5
Evermore is there for all of us. Good write.
Thank you Goldfinch60 for reading .
A great FANTASY POEM FRIEND ~ OWLS are so so important in folklore ! The owls in you poem are showing a much greater empathy and respect for the "self sacrificed whore" than SOCIETY (of which we are all part) or we ever would ~ to me this is the morale of this sad and yet uplifting ode ! MPS needs a shot of FANTASY ~ now and then ~ to keep our "Head in the Clouds !" and our "Hearts in Evermore !" Yours BRIAN
Thank you so much Brian for such radiant words . I'm posting one about King Arthur tomorrow .
A fine write S.
Thank you orchidee for reading .
Analogy ? Who are the beasts , who are the civilized ? I will say nevermore ! Thank you Diamond for reading .
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