Music Hath Charms
Chiaroscuro
was Saul’s soul,
a
web of shade and light
that
started to disintegrate
when
gibbous was the night.
Acedia
would vanish then
and
Saul would not permit
espiègle
words to mollify
his
threatening manic fit.
A
nidus was his restless mind
of
envy, fear and hate—
good
thing his sister knew a way
to
make his rage abate.
She
called her friends the Oláhs,
Hungarians
from the east,
to
come and play a plaintive tune
to
soothe his savage beast:
Boglárka
played the organ
and
lovingly she smiled
and
Mátyás’ bow stroked pleadingly,
and
Saul’s soul was beguiled.
Eristic and Eremite
Tom the epistemologist
was itching for debate;
his lips were forming arguments
as he approached the
gate.
The gate before the
club’s front door
admitted Tom with ease;
alas, the door itself
would not
for knocks or kicks or
pleas.
There had to be another
door.
Tom took a walk around
and passing through a
garden gate,
behold, on fertile
ground,
an eremite upon his knees
was pulling stubborn
weeds
and chanting runes
against the thorns
and sowing wholesome
seeds.
The good seed from his herbium
would bring forth
chamomile,
eringo, ginger, feverfew—
the prospect made him
smile.
Then hermit Herbert sang
his thanks
for angels on the wing
who battle foes of
humankind—
even the dark erlking.
“This is the angelologist
I came here to debate,”
so Thomas thought, “but I
believe
it’s getting rather late.
“I think I’ll stretch out
on the grass
and have myself a rest.”
So Thomas, soothed by
Herbert’s song,
became a grateful guest.
At Medieval Boy Scout Camp
His
rucksack loaded with reticulite,
the
Boy Scout galloped boldly toward the fight,
determined
to defeat the quintain’s craft.
He
struck his target—then the maidens laughed
because
the quintain’s sandbag smacked him back
and
smashed his treasure with a mighty whack.
Alex
Ithymia was blushing when
the
Lady Litotes, his girlfriend Gwen,
arrived
from Language Camp to practice tropes:
“Your
jousting’s not half bad; it gives me hopes
that
you’ll achieve hegemony one day
and
make a host of quintains swing your way.”
Although
she was a lithe and comely lass,
Alex
did not appreciate her sass
but
held his tongue with knightly dignity.
“The
code of courtly love doth trammel me—
I’ll
use that line in Ballad Class next week,”
so
Alex thought but did not choose to speak.
Duplex deus ex machina
Aloft the cliffs at
Sanderling,
downdeep the sea below,
where dolphins played
their dolphy games
and piggins longed to go.
But piggins were a
backward lot
until there came one day
a nazty froward master
pig
who filled them with
dismay.
He lashed them with his
swollen tongue
and backed them to the
edge—
but just before he lashed
them more
the drove began to
fledge:
Soon full-grown wings
were on their backs
that lifted them on high,
and from the welkin came
their squeals:
“Better to fly than die!”
The piggins lowered to
the shore
as dolphins splashed
hello—
but what about the
froward pig
who forced the drove to
go?
Invincible malevolence
would best describe his
case,
for he was formed without
a grain
of decency or grace.
He lived alone and
gnashed his teeth
in unremitting hate
until a butcher crated
him
and sealed his sorry
fate.
Gollum’s Greedlist
From our headses to our toeses,
here is what we likes the mostes,
what we’re avidvicious for:
Pralines stuffed with prunted
pruneses,
tooth-crunch overage galore,
undiluted macaroonses,
sugared to the core and more.
But the Thing we craves the mostest,
more than any other thing,
what we yearns for, aches for, burns
for
is our Darkling Precious Ring.
Kathryn Ann Hill has published over eighty poems in print and online journals since 2003. At http://pendemic.ie/?s=Kathryn+Ann+Hill you will find her pandemic poems.
She
has published six books of poetry between 2007 and 2017. Her Author
Spotlight at https://www.lulu.com/spotlight/kah1952 contains a list
of these books. She is presently preparing a seventh book of poems.
absolutely beautiful, lady!
ReplyDelete