02: Of Bards & Druids


Pendragon sword, Lord Ollamh of the North,
Returns in testing times, the Arts demand
Embroidering six colours into words
While contemplating Hoo’s expanding wings,
Variegated unto royalty;
Whenever signs & omens overwear
Across the mossy-dappl’d turf we rise,
Heaving our hearts up raggy heathermoors
Sat before the very vaults of Heaven
Above the kerbside hopes of Human youth
Upended as if brawlers roll’d a cart
Upon itself, & scatter’d dreams like fruit
Whose are the hands which bend the axle’s truth
Whose are the boots which crush the fruits to pulp?
The answers are brave truths to understand,
Tho’ some ken scatter’d portions well enough,
To place each piece together from the pile,
& make the puzzle whole is how I’ll go
& how I’ll sing my song, no tender lay
Of love is this, but heed my Druid Call;
The mistletoe is paling on the oak,
But if our caring hearts bind in one fold,
There’s nothing on this Earth we cannot do,
To save our home from ruin’s rough demand!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s