Three Poems by Phil Wood

 

The Lorelei

 

Hear our creaking, leaking voices
Seeping, the darkness brimming

 

Sails shredded, rigging racked
Back into the cave, the waves, the waves

 

Thirsting, peeling her prow
Salting her mast, whisper whisper

 

Hear our names ghosting, fearing
Back into the cave, the waves

 

She drifts alone, no captain, no crew
No harbour of dreams, no light of day

 

Hear our voices whisper her name
The thirst of caves, the waves, the waves

 

She wrecks alone, no stars, no charts
Back into the cave, the waves

 

Back into the cave, the waves, the waves
Back into the cave, the waves

 

Crwydro

Here's a nod to heritage, those harpists
who soothed the blade edge of a Prince.
Music to shelter from the Welsh rain
rushing rivers, brimming mountain lakes,
thundering waterfalls. A cave to breathe,
hear the trickle, tears from stone to stone.
The harp will pool the blue of solitude.

 

What The Fragment of Runes Said

 

So many men in mail, their spears and helms 
kindled a dawn of light;
their braided hair, glinted with threaded gold,
as black as starless night.

 

And her, their Queen so tall,  a cluster of stars
silvered her hair, no song of flight;
she sang and caressed the harp, plucked from hearts
all doubt, their death the warrior's right!

 

So many men gave voice, all thundered shields
and sang as one to fight;
and her, their Queen so proud, a blaze of tears 
humbled. She knelt in sight.

Phil Wood was born in Wales. He has worked in statistics, education, shipping, and a biscuit factory. He enjoys painting and learning German. His writing can be found in various places, most recently in :  Byways (Arachne Press Anthology), The Fig Tree, The Shot Glass Journal, London Grip, The Lake, Kelp.