Medley (Part 2)

~ Ting ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

We have in our yard an unusual shed,

A structure for storing things,

Tis metal-clad from top to toe,

Ideal for those with wings.

~

Upon its roof birds perch or roost,

They sit or stand and sing, but,

Such a throng, so strong in song,

Makes the tin-shed ring!

~*~

~ Plum Crumble ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

A cold winter’s day, rustling leaves,

Splaying branches, swaying trees,

I hungered for something that’d please,

Food to appease my taste buds.

~

In need of sweet my stomach rumbled,

So to the diner where pudding crumbled,

There sat I whilst musing mumbled,

Reading aloud their new menu.

~

Desserts distracted but my eye attracted,

By a dish made with plum.

“Perfect,” I said, imagining the taste:

Fruit flavours danced on my tongue.

~

Shortly thereafter the waitress arrived,

“Ready to order, or more time to decide?”

“Thank you,” I said, “plum-crumble for me,

A favourite dish I choose regularly.”

~

Short minutes passed when then at last,

The waitress returned with a swish.

Smiling she said, “tis the last dish,

Lucky for you, you can have what you wish.”

~

“Wonderful! Thank you. But before you go,

There’s something more I’d like to know.

Are you able to reveal the full recipe,

What ingredients I need, specifically?”

~

“I’ll go get chef,” she politely said,

I’m sure he’ll oblige your question.”

“Thank you,” I said watching her thread,

Between tables towards the kitchen.

~

In the blink of an eye chef stood beside,

He was rotund with a smiling face.

“The recipe,” said he, laughing merrily,

“Begins in the marketplace!”

~

“A fruiterer I know who locally grows,

The best product money can buy.

800 grams of ripe rich plums,

So sweet!” he exclaimed with a sigh.

~

“To which I add a generous measure,

4 t’spoons of organic date sugar.

Then into the mix, crushed almond stick,

50 grams should give it a kick.”

~

“Next I use squeezed lemon juice,

Four t’spoons to add some zest.

Last but not least vanilla sugar,

Adding 1 peck to all the rest.”

~

“As for the topping,” he said without stopping,

Start with 150 grams of butter.

Sugar comes next, white cane is best:

150 grams of saccharine matter.”

~

“250 grams of flour – type 550,

Sieved into a bowl nice and slow.

Then 50 grams of almond flour,

Stir it well with elbow power.”

~

“Next, 1 peck of vanilla sugar,

Now nearly ready for the cooker,

Last, not least, add to the equation,

1 t’spoon full of lemon abrasion!”

~

“And there you have it,” chef declared,

“My recipe for crumble, duly aired.

Tis sufficient for four, perhaps even more,

Depending on how it’s shared.”

~

“Thank you,” I said, “a very tasty treat,

But far to much for one to eat!

Why not join me? Have a seat,

Take some weight off your feet.”

~

“Delicious,” I said, “that’s the best!

So much better than all the rest.

Almond and lemon gives it real shine,

My word this dish is truly divine!”

~

And so it was now happily sated,

I paid the waitress, who kindly waited,

And thanking chef, I made my way,

Striding home on a cold winter’s day.

~*~

~ Dhalia ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

La flor Preciosa, petaled spring sculpture,

Dressed scarlet red with golden centre,

Blossoming to flower in sunlit rapture,

Fragrant sweet Dahlia, La flor Hermosa.

~*~

~ On Meeting Santa ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

I met him once, Santa Claus

He red-robed with beard of snow,

Twas only briefly, albeit fleetingly,

When then he had to go.

~

Aged five was I, one Christmas Eve,

When young enough to still believe,

I’d descended stairs on hands and knees,

To wait beneath the Christmas tree (for Santa)

~

I awoke at three quite unexpectedly,

Disturbed by a dull, feint pop.

Something dropped from the chimney breast,

Flopped into the hearth with a plop!

~

I wasn’t afraid, I had no doubt,

I knew what this was all about,

This was how Santa got in the house,

Down the chimney, quiet as a mouse!

~

Sleepily, sheepishly, I asked out loud,

“Santa is that really you?”

I heard a rustle, a small kerfuffle,

Then Santa stepped into view!

~

I know I gaped, perhaps I stared,

Maybe I was a little scared,

For this was Santa, the real McCoy,

Santa Claus who brought such joy!

~

“Shouldn’t you be asleep,” he said,

“Tightly tucked-up in your bed.”

He wasn’t angry, he didn’t loom,

His jolly radiance filled the room!

~

I must confess in being impressed,

Santa was less rotund than assumed.

For tis his plight to eat every bite –

Treats left ‘For Santa’ must be consumed.

~

But yet, Santa Claus was almost svelt:

Athletic, with an upright frame,

I couldn’t fathom how he stayed in trim,

So Santa took time to explain.

~

“Ah,” said he, “there’s no mystery,

No polar magic to reveal,

On Christmas Eve, I race at pace,

Delivering gifts with zest and zeal.”

~

“I’ve so many stops, so many drops,

My sleigh is piled so high,

But to complete my feat, to remain so fleet,

I must eat every mince-pie!”

~

“Then away I go, across the sky –

Burning calories as I fly,

Such great effort needs vast energy,

That’s why I’m a slimmed-down me!”

~

Santa knelt at the base of the tree,

Quietly whispering, said to me,

“I know you’ve been a very good boy,

“Tis why I give this magical toy.”

~

From inside the sleeve of his red jacket,

Santa pulled out a small, wee packet,

“For you,” he said, cheeks rosy red,

“The only item on your list I read.”

~

Wrapped in paper tied with string –

It could’ve been anything! But,

A wooden box with jade-like tone,

Inside of which, lay a single stone.

~

My eyes lit up, my smile wide,

Such joy I felt, I couldn’t hide!

“Keep it safe, use its magic well,

Never reveal, never tell!”

~

“I promise,” I said, “I’ll do right,

The stone will never leave my sight!

I can sense it stirring: it’s calling me,

Wish! it cries, set yourself free!”

~

By now enchanted: was this a dream?

My smile broadened into a beam,

Reaching for Santa, I squeezed him tight,

Then back to sleep til morn’s first light.

~*~

~ Charlie Scarecrow ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

In warming soil a scarecrow stood,

Amidst snow-melt and shrubbery.

Patiently attending to tender-tips

For their journey of discovery.

~

Beneath his robes of rag and straw,

In a place we’ll never know.

Beats Nature’s heart, still ever-green,

From where his scarecrow flows.

~

I’ve seen him hold both birds and bees,

And talk to Owls high up in trees.

I’ve heard him whistle as he works,

And heard him snoring as he shirks!

~

Once I saw him harvesting stars,

From the boughs of the Milky Way.

I watched him gift ’em to fairy-folk,

To help light-up their way.

~

He had no name when he came to me,

And dug himself in the ground.

“Charlie,” said mum, as if she knew,

And then his name was found!

~

Charlie always chats with mum,

Whilst she’s pottering away.

I’ve asked her what they talk about,

But she’s very reluctant to say.

~

Her rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes

Have led me to conclude,

That Charlie her gardening scarecrow

Is more than herbaceously shrewd!

~*~

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Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 22)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 22) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

A suserrous sound, a sighing breeze,

As if wind quivering trees,

Slipped serpentine through high canopies,

Whispering words, rustling leaves.

~

Wrapped all around in a wall of sound:

Energetic, faint and low,

Twas if a swarm of droning wasps,

Flew past an open window.

~

Paused by the door, I listened,

I attuned to a melodic thrum:

A scattering of sounds found concordance,

Harmonious as would a song sung.

~

“The music you hear softly flowing:

Cosmic quiddity, never slowing,

‘Tis the jazz and scat of all matter,

Moving to the beat of one drum.”

~

“Away above, atop earthy ground,

An ancient forest thrives,

Where-in there stands a mighty Oak,

Branching into arching skies.”

~

“Upwards she climbs, backwards in time,

Reaching for the edge of space.

From here to there and back again,

She’s part of a weave of lace.”

~

“Said web of thread: life’s complexity,

An entanglement of inter-connectivity.”

“Indeed,” said he, “much like spaghetti –

Are the silken strands of totality.”

~

“For example,” he said, “imagine a place,

Far away, where a star is born.

Its dramatic emergence creates disturbance –

As might wind ripple fields of corn.”

~

“The mighty Oak who reaches high,

Whose splendid span in star-lit skies,

Whose leaves flex differently with each breeze,

She feels star-birth purl cosmic seas.”

~

“And so it is for every sound, for

Every murmur from all around:

 Every atom above or below ground,

As matter chatters a tune is found.”

~

“Crystal-walled this shrine may be, yet,

Bound by root and rocks.

Along deep tubers branching down,

 Comes resonance that never stops.”

~

“At first overwhelming,” he said affirming,

“The intensity of the cosmic voice: but,

You’ll come round to differentiating sound,

An experienced ear offers choice.”

~

“Ahh!” He enthused, “do you hear that?”

“Tiny wings beating of a tiny gnat!”

“Tis a language of sorts, sounds to enthrall –

Given time, you’ll learn them all.”

~

Then to and fro, back and forth,

He moved with practiced motion:

As if a task perfected in time,

Fluid in his locomotion.

~

With candles glowing, he slowing,

And turning, lowering his hood,

Aglow in flickering warm-peach light,

At the center of the shrine he stood.

~

“Welcome,” he said, “to the Hall of Dreams,

This helm, your home, your station.

Much has changed in ten-thousand years,

Since your last incarnation.”

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 21) precedes this post. Part 23 to follow soon ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 21)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 21) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Split, spliced, sub-atomically sliced,

My subjectivity subdivided,

Transient ‘tween reality and dream,

In liminality I slowly glided.

~

A cloud was I, mere flecks and specks,

Motes afloat in space,

Amidst vast seas, evolving galaxies,

Drifting thro’ time and place.

~

Not ashen pale behind this veil,

Nor inked in darkly shade,

Here possibility embraced infinity,

Here, from light were all things made.

~

How long away I cannot say, nor

To what end I was bound, but

When awoken by a voice spoken,

I was treading ancient ground.

~

Fleet the beat of shuffling feet,

Through tunnels dank and dark,

‘Til came a time, a sharp decline,

Where bloomed a sudden spark.

~

A lantern lit, a flare of light,

A stair of steps, a downward flight,

B’twixt a twitchel tween tall walls,

Where torchlight blossomed bright.

~

Down we wound through lamp-lit grey,

To a door iron-braced,

A key inserted, a twist exerted,

Into a chamber we hasted.

~

Said chamber, more an anti-room,

Small, squat and square,

A late addition of fine construction,

Hewn after l was there.

~

Across the floor strut Nevermore,

Whilst I remained unmoved:

Entranced by tones of old flagstones,

That time and tread had smoothed.

~

To other side where no lamp lit,

Flit the striding crow,

An abrasive sound, stone sliding ground,

Then candle’s glistered glow.

~

Barely bright, dim pool of light:

A flickering honey-tone,

Lit a column with ball-claw bottom,

Carved artfully from stone.

~

Atop its top, finely honed,

A skull, translucent-white,

“A key,” said he mysteriously,

“Satin-spar, Selenite.”

~

“What will come, what will go,

This piece brings release.

Positivism, purity, fluid-like energy,

Attuned to deepest peace.”

~

“Alignment,” he said, “and activation,

For reaching higher planes.

Earth is but one conscious station,

Others exist in distant domains.”

~

Smiling he tossed the Satin-spar,

“Explore,” said he, “journey far.”

Then lifting the column from its mount,

“Follow me,” he turned about.

~

A shorter passage, an open door,

Polished stone upon the floor,

A lantern lit: soft peachy glow,

“Ah,” said I, “a place I know.”

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 20) precedes this post. Part 22 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 20)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 20) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Her words dripped like water-drops,

Spilled from cresting cliff-tops,

As rain they came showering me,

Spellbound upon the scree.

~

Slowly seeping, memories creeping,

Visions of a deepening mind.

Vibrant notions whirled in motion,

Thoughts couldn’t be confined.

~

This beach, these cliffs, this sea-view,

Doubtless was a coast I knew:

A magical place, a mystical space – but,

Was I just passing through?

~

No! I’d walked along this high headland,

Trod ancient tracks across the sand.

Wide-eyed I’d gazed in mindful wonder,

Immersed in realms lying yonder.

~

I’d seen sunshine light-up this shore,

The Moon illume its sandy floor,

I’d seen the cavern ‘neath this bight,

The ancient shrine hid from sight.

~

Piece-by-piece the puzzle grew,

More-and-more until I knew,

This dew-drenched jewel upon the shore,

Was steeped in legend, mythic lore.

~

Yes indeed, I’d been here before,

Countless times throughout my yore,

As if in procession, each a succession,

A returning recurring in time.

~

When last I’d heard Nightingale’s words –

Amidst shadow and candle glow: twas,

Another dawn of a new day born,

An Age lived long ago.

~

And so it was at morn’ this day,

Knowing my fate I made my way,

Descending scree, across the bay,

With her song at play in my ear.

~

“Hold steadfast to your path,

Don’t deviate your course.

Past will pass to you this day.

So too the vital force.”

~

Then face-to-face with Nevermore,

Who hooded, preened and gowned,

Dark as night shone with light:

Light rising from underground.

~

Whelmed was I by his glance,

Succumbed to magic, lost in trance.

In his glare I became aware,

Of my poignant circumstance.

~

From deep within inside of me,

An intensity I’d never known.

Twas if a power undefined,

Rose to claim my throne.

~

With push, punch, and potency,

A tide of unknown energy,

Swelled and surged forcefully,

As if intended with efficacy.

~

My heart lifted, my thoughts shifted,

My spirit floated on air.

All at once as if fragmented,

I was everywhere!

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 19) precedes this post. Part 21 to follow shortly ~

~*~

~ Photography/Artwork ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 19)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 19) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Flap, fuss, feathered rumpus,

Then snafus abruptly ended.

Back to flocks upon dark rocks,

Amongst the mass they blended.

~

Yet four remained as if restrained –

 Compelled or obligated,

At cardinal points about the crack,

Which lightening had created.

~

Stood East of me; West of he,

A Raven black and bold.

As dark as night but in this light,

Feathered purple, blue and gold.

~

His piercing stare laid me bare,

His eyes probed my soul,

Twas if he weighed the heart of me,

Or measured me as a whole.

~

Though squinting into brightening haze,

I unflinching held his gaze: and

Whilst no fear or troubling doubt,

Seeds of unease began to sprout.

~

When then again a shrilling chirp:

High upon the sunlit scarp.

From her perch on warming stones,

Revealing words, melodic tones.

~

“Tethers severed, spells untied,”

“Like brume,” she said, “Sentinels rise.”

“Sentries of Secrets, Stewards of Stones,

Guardians of Relics, Keepers of Bones.”

~

She paused briefly, albeit fleetingly,

Her song noted with mirth.

I attentively, listened carefully,

Eager for words of worth.

~ 

“In days of yore, beneath this shore:

An Age fabled in rhyme,

A sapient Sage with benign intent,

Found an ancient shrine.”

~

“Twas hidden deep at tunnel’s end,

A chamber hewn by hand,

From the shore a passage led,

Through sandstone rock inland.”

~

“At its core an upright block,

A stela of meteoric rock,

Precisely chiselled, polished, pristine,

Upon it carved, ‘Beholder’s Dream.”

~

“Enshrined behind this centre piece,

Within a crevice, between a crease,

Articles of virtu, objet d’art,

Sooth for a Sage’s spiritual heart.”

~

“There he practiced, honed his craft,

Learnt mystical ways, esoteric Arts.

Guided always in his endeavour,

By arcane texts, ineffable treasure.”

~

“Long years passed until at last,

His sagacity was unsurpassed.

More puissant than all who’d come before,

He the Raven called Nevermore!”

~

Silence lingered, when then she cried,

“Walk!” She urged, “be by his side.”

“The way is clear, dispel your fear,”

“Stride-on,” said she, “become the Seer.”

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 18) precedes this post. Part 20 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 18)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 18) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

A cliffy crescent enclosed this bay,

East to West, curved each way,

To tapered ends sloping away,

Trailing into briny blue.

~

Tinting their tops, evergreen dell,

Candy glazed, greyness quelled.

Silhouetted trees, rouge rubbed leaves,

 Foliage flush with blush.

~

Yet fleetly flittering dewy pink rose,

Sweetly deposed by mellow,

A sallow light, weak and wan,

Skies awash with yellow.

~

Drab and drear upon the sheer,

Gleamed a flaxen sheen,

Dim and grim upon the scree,

Quickly fled the scene.

~

Across the bay shadow scurried,

Behind boulders shade hurried,

Hastened, hounded, harried on,

Mercilessly chased by waxen sun.

~

Not yet cresting cliffy peaks: but,

Rising steadily soon to peep,

Soon to illume gloaming gloom,

Rouse Stygian from deep sleep.

~

At talus top, my brightened mount,

Sat in wonderment, gazing out,

I felt displaced, but yet embraced,

Interlaced within this special place.

~

Inseparable was I from waking dream,

More than just a perfect scene,

It stirred me in ways most curious,

Left me heady, delirious.

~

Full to brimming, senses swimming,

Drinking-in the view,

Dank wet-through with heavy dew,

Soon drunk on nature’s brew.

~

When then within my dreaminess,

A memory, vague and nebulous,

As if an echo from long ago,

Had burrowed deep inside.

~

I felt so sure I knew this shore,

Twas more than evocation: yet,

This not the view it’d been before,

But a weathered approximation.

~

Quickly, quickly, in rapid succession,

Thoughts flowed in quick procession:

A magical mage, a secret shrine,

Murderous intent, an abandoned mine.

~

I had no need to pause and ponder,

Only to muse upon my wonder,

For wonder it was, this revelation:

Exchanging mystery for illumination.

~

But yet, neither resolved nor crystal clear,

Questions remained unanswered here.

What was the source of these sudden notions,

That deeply stirred my emotions?

~

Surprised perhaps, but not perturbed,

A voice inside me softly heard,

I recognised her songbird chime,

The soulful beat of Nightingale’s rhyme.

~

“Watch and wait my dear Seer,

Soon all doubt will disappear.

When magic flows you will know,

What is to see before thee.”

~

And so it was without surprise,

Atop the scree ‘neath dawning skies,

I sat in awe as flocks of birds,

Made haste towards the bay.

~

Skuas, Shags, and Razorbills,

Spilled upon the shore,

Gannets, Gulls and Guillemots,

Frenetic with furore.

~

Gathered at a point beyond the rocks,

Shrieking, flapping around,

As if encircling something unseen,

Something upon the ground.

~

But this wasn’t fever of frenzied birds,

Hungry, driven to feasting.

Snip! Snip! Snip! Scissoring threads,

Twas Sentinels they were releasing!

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 17) precedes this post. Part 19 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 17)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 17) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Darkness steeped in deep of sleep,

Twas last hour before the dawn,

West-wind blew, warm and true,

Encouraged a new day born.

~

Sensuous calm pervaded the shore –

A cackling Crow, but nothing more.

As if obeying ancient lore: sunrise

Was what life waited for.

~

No shroud of cloud or misty veil,

Venus glistered on wet shale.

She pearled in pools radiant jewels,

Her presence here palpable.

~

Indeed, tide had turned, ebbed away,

Grumbling still in tumbling play,

Quiet beyond the briny bight,

Beyond the reef, out of sight.

~

From my cosy I’d risen slowly,

Stepped stumbling across the strand,

To where a talus of tumbled rock,

 Lay fanned upon the sand.

~

Scrambling me scattering scree,

Until at height from the floor,

Better placed when daylight chased,

Shadows from sea-shore.

~

Upon a wedge of weathered stone,

Deep in thought, sat alone,

My spirit feathered, my heart untethered,

Unfettered in flighty reverie.

~

Soon clear to me I wasn’t alone –

No longer singular I,

For I resided undivided, in Love,

With one on high.

~

There Venus shone a sorceress star,

Spinning spells spilled from afar,

Soul-to-soul with me was she,

My celestial queen for eternity.

~

“I am the passion in your heart.

The fiery flame at each new start.

A wandering star just like thee,

Consort and guide, follow me.”

~

Breaking my dream a shrilling cry,

A flock of gulls hastened by,

Upon miry sand they quickly settled,

Amongst claggy rocks quietly nestled.

~

Gazing east towards the sun,

Soon to guild curved horizon,

There night skies already fading,

Traded gloom for lighter shading.

~

First one splinter then a crack,

Drapes of night drawing back,

Swiftly now darkness weakened,

In its stead brightness sweetened,.

~

Licks of light slick and bright,

Flecks of peach and tangerine,

Saffron hues spliced Prussian blues,

As morn’ awoke from dream.

~

A way away across the bay,

Atop sea-cliffs cast iron grey,

On razor edges, perilous ledges,

Rough ridges rendered rose.

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 16) precedes this post. Part 18 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 16)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 16) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Sweet Selene into dream descended,

Queen of gleam, her reign ended,

Apparelled in silver, a star suspended,

Herald of Dawn, Aurora ascended.

~

Entranced and gazing, contemplating,

Expectant, if not anticipating,

Waiting for first moment when,

Sunlight spilt on far horizon.

~

“Upon this hour, this perfect dawn,

When Venus declares new day born,

You will see, no longer doubt,

Open your eyes, look about!”

~

I was alone, stilled as stone,

Still bolstered by a boulder,

Twas hours since he made me wince,

His grip upon my shoulder.

~

That spectral form made manifest,

With zest left long ago,

Departed when a strong wind blew,

Returned to the energy flow.

~

“Wish,” he said, “I’ll be there,”

“Indeed,” he added, “I’m everywhere!”

“Tis what we Anemoi perpetually do,”

“God’s of Wind, breathe life into you.”

~

He had impressed, or firmly stressed –

Expressed applying pressure:

“Winter’s come, yet winter’s gone,

“From here-on life gets fresher.”

~

And so I’d sat in quiet retreat,

Cool damp sand beneath my feet,

Lulled by the lullaby of tidal beat,

As if in the dwam before deep sleep.

~

‘Tween dawning scenes and waking dreams –

Subliminal spaces undefined,

Within such places he’d opened seams:

Words waiting to be mined.

~

“Not yet adept, but versed I see –

Purveyor of words, rhyming poetry.

Believe or not, that is your choice, but

Lend your ear to my voice.”

~

‘Tis not by chance I’ve come to thee,

I’m hastened by Persephone,

Her season’s nigh, ’tis imminent,

For you that is a pivotal moment.”

~

“I’m Zephyrus Ferverous, the West Wind’s mine,

An agent of change for warm, light times.

Tis I whose breath, active, dynamic,

Blows your mind, lifts your lyric.”

~

“Perhaps dear friend, you’ve heard of me?”

I flutter feathers for Mercury.

If not for I, where would he be?

Breathless says I, pained by gravity!”

~

“It’s said I’m sombre, saturnine –

Stripping trees in Autumn time: but yet,

Mine’s the process encouraging decline,

Inspiring Nature to spring new vine.”

~

“Throughout great ages, old years of yore,

Hundreds I’ve known, Poet’s galore.

 I’ve been their remedy easing strife,

A breath of fresh air penning new life.”

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 15) precedes this post. Part 17 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 15)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 15) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Neither less diminished, nor less bright

The colour of the tendril’d light,

No longer glared ferocious white, but

Flared instead deep purple.

~

Twas if that lustre, an energetic flow,

Shone from within, an auric glow,

For this spirit, this spectre, this visitant,

Illumed at its core was scintillant.

~

So close to me I could sense,

Its halcyon sway, its resonance:

Calm, serene, with manner mild, yet,

Beneath its façade, something wild.

~

A quality hidden, I could not fathom,

An enigmatic edge to this balmy phantom,

 Twas more perception than certainty, but,

Beyond all doubt ambiguity.

~

Coiled, expectant, upon wet sand,

My head raised, tho’ I didn’t stand,

Eager was I to understand,

To figure-out what was at hand.

~

Whatever it was or wanted with me,

It posed no threat immediately,

For had it intended hostility,

Why delay swift victory?

~ 

I watched and waited, hesitated,

Ill at ease and agitated, but,

Not disquieted or prone to ruffle,

This eidolon meant me no trouble.

~

I lifted my eyes towards night skies,

Gazed upwards at the being,

To my surprise ‘neath hooded guise,

A face was now appearing!

~

Indeed this spectre was solidifying –

Fleshing out with skin and bone,

A man it was, aged, well-weathered,

Long beard of pearl-grey tone!

~

Upon his face inscribed ink-blue,

Signs and seals, arcane tattoos,

Those I saw inspired the notion:

Symbols for wind, time and motion.

~ 

Mere moments later he was complete:

Manifest from head to feet,

Clothed and cloaked in drapery,

He exuded an air of mystery.

~

Wide-eyed was I, surprised, aghast,

An apparition in flesh recast! But,

What was this inexplicable sorcery,

This mesmerism in front of me?

~

Fully formed he took one stride,

Closer still until beside –

Beside the side of my right-hand side,

Then reached to touch my shoulder.

~

As reflex reaction to his action,

I blenched and flinched away,

Yet neither my shiver nor my quiver,

Dislodged his hand where it lay.

~

Without hiss, or cackle, or ghostly rattle,

Without menace to excite my fear,

Words I heard whispering,

In tones soft, deep and clear.

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 14) precedes this post. Part 16 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 14)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 14) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Beating retreat, flaming less bolder,

Dampened ash, smoking smoulder,

Wisps and whirls and hoary purls,

Swirled about the figure curling.

~

A furtive glimpse quickly stolen,

This flaring fiend from fire woven,

Feathers furled, glistered golden,

Rippled as if molten motion.

~

Twas spectral without solidity.

An entity with lucidity,

A translucent vision, an apparition,

An ethereal being beyond description.

~

It stood or floated, perhaps it hovered,

Black in body, face covered –

A formless shape in cloak or cape,

Shifting, drifting in the breeze.

~

Tho’ briefly seen thro’ fire’s sheen –

Beyond a screen of rising thermal,

I had no doubt what looked out,

Nothing less than paranormal.

~

Compelled to gawp, gape and gaze,

Across the sand thro’ dying blaze,

I watched the spectre turn its head,

In my direction its leer was led.

~

I knew it saw me, I felt its glare:

Stabbing with its piercing stare,

Seized by eyes that were not there,

I was entrapped, ensnarled, ensnared.

~

Fervid fear in my stomach pit,

Bit with bile, dried my spit,

Ill at ease without my wits,

I hunkered down ‘neath rock parapet.

~

I shot quick glance across the bay:

A place of refuge to make my way,

But alas! Only towering cliffs of grey,

Surrounded the cove ascending away.

~

Stalled and stilled, static, inert,

Fingers raked through dampened dirt –

In hope of bough or sturdy staff,

Something solid to defend myself.

~

Yet barren about me upon the sand,

No robust tool came to hand,

Frantic was I when in my sight,

Came creeping tendrils of waxen light.

~

These pallid blooms probing gloom,

Opaque at first grew brighter,

Until in fact ‘tween every crack,

Shone shafts of light ever whiter.

~

Where umbra hid behind my boulder,

Soon bathed in light, blazing bolder –

Darkness illumed, shade consumed,

My shadow set in silhouette.

~

So sudden before me towering tall,

The spectral form of this faceless ghoul,

Stood staring down upon my crown,

As fear further fed my dread.

~

But yet, I sensed no menace or malevolence,

No prevalence of maleficence,

Instead a palpable benevolence –

A quality of graceful elegance.

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 13) precedes this post. Part 15 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘N’ Corpse (Part 13)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 13) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Rain fell lashing in puddles splashing,

Whilst sea surged dashing rocks: but,

One moment tender paused to linger,

Soft lips interlocked.

~

Posed embracing whilst he bracing,

Pulled her closer still.

As if as one, both overcome,

Tears begun to spill.

~

About his hand her fingers curled,

In which his precious heart was held,

“Come what may,” I heard her say,

“Together forever night and day.”

~

A way away upon high land,

In reach of us upon low sand,

A bell sung-out the hour at hand:

Sending forth its one demand.

~

“Come my love, we can’t delay,”

“Perpetuity exists beyond the grey,”

“Our time has come, we must be gone,”

“Spirited far, far away.”

~

Closer still, now limpet tight,

Entwined upon this stormy night,

In yearning to escape their plight,

She moved her hand to make it right.

~

His withered heart from cloth unrolled,

B’twixt black sack, poke of old,

Placed in a space with tender care,

Nightingale eased his aching despair.

~

Wide-eyed was I, and so entranced,

This lurid love an exquisite romance.

I dared not blink, for if by chance,

I missed their changing circumstance.

~

Twas then a flash of jagged light,

A flailing chord lightning white,

Lit bright the dark of darkly night,

Blinded me, blurred my sight.

~

That searing bolt of brilliant hue,

Raced at pace, fast and true,

Struck both lovers still infused,

Bored deep into the floor.

~

Bedrock shattered, fragments scattered,

Sand fused as glassine,

Never before in all my yore

Had I witnessed such a scene!

~

So sudden was this manifestation:

This pyrotechnic aberration,

With thunder came conflagration,

Scorching heat, decimation!

~

Air dense with dirt, dust, debris,

With flame and smoke engulfing me,

I was lifted-up, blown-around,

Thrown down hard on sodden ground.

~

Dazed, confused, battered, bruised,

Breathless, pale with shock,

Slipping, sliding, intent on hiding,

I scrambled to the rocks.

~

Slumped behind a craggy boulder,

I chanced quick glance across my shoulder,

To where beyond the blistering blaze,

A shadow loomed in rippling haze.

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 12) precedes this post. Part 14 to follow shortly ~

~*~

~ Artwork by Dewin Nefol ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 12)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 12) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Thunder-clapped, tumultuous applause,

Gods raged above sand shores,

Air sizzled, rain drizzled,

Lightning seared swelled sea.

~

Anvil headed storm-cloud stacks,

Night squeezed ‘tween black cracks,

In darkness shared with dark company,

Nevermore reached tentatively.

~

Woody tips touched mort-cloth strips:

 Grasped gently at the bundle,

Nightingale squeaked, urgency piqued,

Overhead thunder rumbled.

~

Twas as if he held a priceless gift:

An item o so precious.

Cradling his savaged heart,

Left him o so breathless.

~

He paused for a moment, head titled,

Hand stilted unbinding rag:

As if in peeling, unwrapping, revealing,

Disclosure made him sad.

~

I knew so little of his fate,

Nor of his days of life: but yet,

Twas plain to see in each degree,

His suffering, his sorrow, his strife.

~

I sensed his misgiving, his acute unease,

Tho’ certain was I he’d be appeased.

Yet each turn of cloth he moved farther,

His demeanour deepened ever darker.

~

“My fate,” said he, “a pitiful end,”

“So sudden, stabbed with pain.”

“Such gloom consumes this heavy heart,”

“Would I desire to feel it again?”

~

“Yes yes my love,” Nightingale said,

“But sweet is our memory.”

“Dread being dead can’t hurt us now,”

“Together for eternity.”

~

She flapped and flew to his hand,

Perched resting on a finger,

She looked at he so lovingly,

Before once more a singer.

~ 

“Neath deep sea life lay drowned,”

“In mort-cloth was your heart enwound,”

“But to my heart your love is bound,”

“For in my soul your soul is found.”

~

“So near,” she sung, “so nearly free,”

“Feel the love I have for thee.”

“Come my love, journey with me,”

“Beyond the stars to infinity.”

~

I heard her mutter, watched her flutter,

Quickly she flew my view.

When then of a sudden, no-longer hidden,

As a ghost she returned hitherto.

~

More beautiful than I first recalled,

Ethereal as a Luna-moth,

Crouched on sand she took his hand,

Teased away stained cloth.

~

Timed just right, a lightening strike,

As to his lips she pressed her own.

“Don’t be afraid,” she softly sung,

“Tis time to come on home.”

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 11) precedes this post. Part 13 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 11)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 11) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

For an hour or more upon seashore,

Huddled near haggard rocks,

Beneath full bloom of a silvery Moon,

Beholding the metal box.

~

Nevermore hadn’t moved,

Nor had he said a word,

Lips tight-stitched, gaze transfixed,

As was the lyrical bird.

~

He looked at peace but underneath,

I knew he was perturbed.

Inside he fumed, his thoughts consumed,

By all that had occurred.

~

In rage-wet eyes bitterness lingered,

In balled fists anger hungered,

Long lost years spilt as tears:

Damp tracts on hessian sack.

~

At length he turned, looked at me,

His face devoid of misery,

In its stead a smile had spread,

Spread glinting in his eyes.

~

He bowed his head in gratitude,

Removed his gunny hood,

“One thing more I ask of you,”

Then slowly rose and stood.

~

Between his robes of plastic clothes,

He reached a woody hand.

A short crowbar with chamfered tip,

Was placed upon the sand.

~

“Please,” he said, “prise the box,”

“I have no strength to do it.”

“Slowly, slowly if you please,”

“My heart, do not tear it.”

~

And so it was I set about,

My task an assiduous affair:

Gently probing ‘tween seams corroding,

Jamming the jemmy with care.

~

Minutes passed when then at last,

Box and lid separated.

Although enclosed was not exposed,

Twas a moment long awaited.

~

The silent Chat sat no more,

Fluttered feathers and to the floor,

Flew to view what lay in store,

Inside the metal box.

~

Eager, excited, indeed delighted,

Unburdened of her pity,

She cooed to embolden Nevermore,

Trilled an enchanting ditty.

~

He adoring gazed down at her,

She gazed up at him,

Then carefully he raised the lid,

To see what lay within.

~

A bundle bound in oilskin rag,

Wrapped inside a mort-cloth bag,

Lay betwixt two rustic roods,

In an open box of wood.

~

When then a sound from all around,

As if a quiet humming,

Feint at first, grew and grew,

Became a thunderous drumming!

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 10) precedes this post. Part 12 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 10)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 10) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Fingers of light scything bright,

Cool mist upon the sea,

A golden glaze through wispy haze,

Reached-out to welcome me.

~

Stroke by stroke I made my way,

Slowly, slowly towards the bay,

In my wake undulating grey,

Fumed at my trespass.

~ 

Soft sand at last between my toes,

Firm ground, a rocky shore.

Upon the beach I sat me down,

To one side laid Nevermore.

~

A way away a tolling buoy,

Feint echo of a bell,

Faded, fading, evaporating,

Fell silent in briny swell.

~

Tired, overcome, exhausted, undone,

Sore eyes saw nothing more.

Sprawled on sand, safe on land,

Soon asleep upon the shore.

~

For an age I slept in warming sun,

 Adrift in curious dreams:

Untethered, untied, like a boat afloat,

Or a mote borne on jet-streams.

~*~

I awoke ‘neath a cloak of shimmering stars,

Glinting on brocade and crewel,

Each shone bright with crystallised light,

Each was a glistening jewel.

~

Moths and Loons hailed the Moon:

Selene a hoary orb,

The bay alive with silvered life,

In her light were absorbed.

~

One large Moth black as night,

Spiralled down in my sight,

It came to land on-top of rocks,

Close beside the metal box.

~

I saw it settle, raise dark wings,

Lift its head, heard it sing,

It called to others close nearby,

A quiet lament for one who’d died.

~

Before my eyes, to my surprise,

Through an eclipse of flutter-by’s,

Darkness shifted, a shadow drifted,

A hooded figure stood tall.

~

Tall and slight, dark as night,

No robes or clothes around him:

Instead four-bags tied with string,

Were tightly bound to wooden limbs.

~

In his hand perched Nightingale,

Sat silent without lament,

Both he and she gazed longingly,

Knowing of the box’s content.

~

Removing his hat the Scarecrow sat,

Sat crossed-legged upon dry sand,

Swift and true Nightingale flew,

Flew to land on my hand.

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 9) precedes this post. Part 11 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 9)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 9) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Freeing tight choke of binding ropes,

I brushed aside dirt and debris,

With padlock sighted, I delighted,

Reaching for Nightingale’s key.

~

My body shook, fingers fumbled,

Numbness harried my hand,

Slowly inserting, mechanism turning,

Box unlocked upon the sand!

~

But rusted, encrusted, tightly sealed,

It wouldn’t open, wouldn’t yield!

Wasted seconds for I had no time,

Intention turned to freeing my line.

~

Chaffed red raw, my limb rubbed sore –

By a cable firmly tied.

It wouldn’t free or let go of me,

No matter how hard I tried.

~

Close to frantic, in utmost panic,

My thoughts confused, unclear,

Yet amidst such churning, a quiet stirring,

My mind brought forth an idea.

~

Away to my right, in my sight,

Part-hidden, housed in grey,

A truck of steel, upright on wheels,

Upon tracks of iron lay.

~

Stumbling, staggering, I made my way,

The box clasped tight to my chest,

Now burning within, lungs starving,

But no time to pause or rest.

~

Beside one side of the rusting truck,

I knelt upon the floor,

What hope I had rewarded luck:

This wagon empty of mined-ore.

~

Pressing my weight against its side,

I pushed for all my worth,

Sliding my line beneath its wheel,

I rocked it back and forth.

~

Such a motion caused commotion:

The sea awash with debris.

But evidently clear as I peered,

The line was fraying nicely!

~

With one final heave the line broke,

My limb, my body, set free!

No longer a shroud, a thickly cloak,

I hastened to flee the sea!

~

Upon sand floors, through hung doors,

My legs strove to stride,

Once outside the cavernous mine,

I ascended assisted by tide.

~

Upwards, upwards, towards sunlight,

Swimming hard with all my might,

Breaking free, escaping dark sea,

Nevermore’s heart accompanying me.

~

I surfaced gasping in briny swell,

Lungs inflating, breathlessness dispelled,

Buoyant was I amidst cresting foam,

Turning, turning, yearning for home.

~*~

~ Cope ‘n’ Corpse (Part 8) precedes this post. Part 10 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 8)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 8) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Hollowed by nature, hewn by hand,

This entrance with an arching span,

Spanned a space squat and wide,

Room aplenty to squeeze inside.

~

Tumbled boulders flanked both sides,

Sand lay strewn at whim of tides, yet,

Clear divide upon sea-bed,

Where rusting rail-tracks led.

~

Tho’ little remained of timber frames,

Columns of wood stood tall,

Below its mantle remnants dangled:

Derelict doors about to fall.

~

Tho’ dark and dingy I could see,

Inside the cave in front of me.

What little light infused deep grey,

Revealed a dismal passageway.

~

All this I saw with one quick glance:

An image blurred as if in trance,

Yet easily distracted, my eye attracted,

To where above the mine hung a sign.

~

In stark contrast to sand and sea,

Affixed to rock horizontally,

Painted in red, ‘Beware!’ I read.

‘Unsafe! Abandoned Mine!’

~

But time was pressing, lungs stressing,

My dilemma as yet unsolved.

With firmer resolve I renewed my haste,

Quickened my pull, upped my pace.

~

Pinewood slats where blockading doors,

Lay ruined upon sea floor.

Through this opening I scurried forth,

Hand-over-hand for all my worth.

~

A short way in the cable thinned:

Twas frayed to just one wire.

Diminished in size it began to rise,

Vertically higher and higher.

~

To sea-floor I threw my coiled line:

Gathered en route to the disused mine,

It weighted me down upon the ground,

 By its action aiding my traction.

~

But yet, it was this line about my limb,

Tightly knotted, chaffing skin,

Which bound me here inside this hole:

Too heavy to carry, swim and haul.

~

I stumbled forwards towards cave wall,

Felt gentle currents push and pull,

Hands took hold of slippery rock,

I climbed to where the wire stopped.

~

Stretching upwards, stood on toes,

Reaching where my line goes:

Inside a fissure formed in fractured rock,

Wherein it coiled about a box.

~

Tightly held, secured fast,

A box small in size, from metal cast.

Rusted, dusted but still intact,

Its casing complete, without a crack.

~

With urgent fumbling, rock-wall crumbling,

At last the box tumbled down.

It lay on sea floor where I could see more,

More of the box I’d found.

~ 

Still locked, bound, chained around,

Still tied with rotting rope,

I hurried my hand to find the lock,

Believing there was still hope.

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 7) precedes this post. Part 9 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 7)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 7) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Deep, dark, unsettling murk,

Gaping gaps where creatures lurked,

Small fish swished, sped and swam,

Hurried, scurried, scattered, scrammed.

~

Bumped, bruised, breathless, confused,

My body scratched and scraped,

Turning, twisting, without desisting,

Persisting despite my aches.

~

Hastening hard along the line,

When I saw a light source shine.

Twas dull at first, as if submersed,

Diffused by silt each tidal burst.

~

But a light is was, a beaming ray,

Through salty sea had made its way,

To shine brightly in caliginous grey:

Illume small space to survey.

~

Straining to see through sombre sea,

I was convinced beyond all doubt,

Bubbles flowed and quickly rose,

Rising from a thermal spout.

~

Not just one bubble but a stream!

A string of bubbles ascending!

Could it be oxygen being vented?

Or anoxic gas quickly lamented?

~

Whilst tied by cable down below,

I had no choice but to go.

Investigate pearlescent glow,

Or else forgo my life!

~

Closer now, said shaft of light,

Glowed at depths to my right.

Twas pale but sufficiently bright,

To guide me to the venting site.

~

Kicking hard ‘tween coral shards,

Through kelp and rocky reef,

I hauled down hard on seaweed stems,

Towering from way beneath.

~

The shaft of light now dim in glim,

Pooled on something glistening.

Mineral matter from a vent,

Scattered the floor as sediment.

~

Cautious, despairing, in need of airing,

Fearing hot toxic stew,

I slammed a hand into the flow,

Watched as bubbles bubbled through.

~

Cool to touch, no smell or scent,

I placed my mouth to the vent,

Then squatting down upon the ground,

Breathed-in effervescence.

~

Oxygen rich was a heady mix,

I succumbed to disorientation.

Yet held by cable, I felt enabled,

Buoyed by oxygenation.

~

With lungs inflated, spirit elated,

Once again pursuing the line,

To where extended it abruptly ended,

Beyond slats of shattered pine.

~

If not for absence of silt and debris,

Or flourishing fields of swaying kelpie,

I’d never have seen where cable led:

To a cavernous opening on seabed.

~

Twas entrance to a deserted mine,

Abandoned from an earlier time,

When long before sea-water tore,

 Crumbled dry land upon the shore.

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 6) precedes this post. Part 8 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 6)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 6) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Fumbling around upon the ground,

In hope of finding Nevermore,

But only cold sea, sand and debris,

Lay upon the ocean-floor.

~

Pain in my chest urgently pressed,

 Encouraged me to rise.

‘Stay to long,’ echoed Nightingale’s song,

‘You’ll be gone with the tide.’

~

‘Quickly, quickly,’ I quietly thought,

Hands busied yet finding naught,

Fretful, anxious, flurried, fraught,

Eager to find the box I sought.

~

With little purchase in sea-bed,

My body buoyed, elevated,

Currents coursed, quickly shifted,

So to I quickly drifted.

~

Pushed and pulled to-and-fro,

Caught unaware by tidal flow,

With anchorage lost: I’d let go,

Hauled away by undertow.

~

I tumbled, twisted, turned, spun,

All sense of direction verily undone,

Which way up, which way down,

Whirled was I around, around.

~

How far I travelled, how far flung?

Swiftly currents carried me on,

Faster, faster, further away: was it

Out to sea or towards the bay?

~

Til dragged upon a craggy reef:

Saw-tooth coral with rock beneath.

Bubbles of air escaped clenched teeth,

Breathless now I had to breathe.

~

I looked above towards dull glow,

Fifty feet, not far to go,

Yet something coiling down below,

Reached for me from shadow.

~

Harder I tried, tighter it tied,

Entwining about my limb.

I couldn’t see what held me:

Tethered unable to swim.

~

Desperate for air, lungs hurting,

I reached to grasp the vine-like thing,

Fingers reached, searched and found,

A tenacious tentacle holding me down.

~

Twas a thickly line, perhaps a cable,

Heavy-set but yet still able,

To rise and full on current’s whim,

To grab and grapple everything.

~

Now tautly bound around my skin,

Doubtless tightened by my struggling,

I couldn’t release its grip on me:

Escape this fate and flee.

~

Tiring quickly, my thinking slow,

Weakened with no oxygen flow,

With seconds passing I decided to go,

Deeper still into coral growth.

~

Twas where the cable must’ve led,

Secured somehow to rocky-bed,

Perhaps if I could free it there?

Free myself, surface for air.

~

Dismal depths where shadow loomed,

Confining spaces, constricted room,

Jagged jaws, ragged rock,

Coral snagged but I didn’t stop.

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 5) precedes this post. Part 7 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 5)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 5) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

Briny cold sea swallowed me,

Stole breath from my lungs,

In need of air I reached for where,

Braced iron formed ladder rungs.

~

I grasped gasping as sea-salt rasping,

Purged my throat and gut.

Twas all I could do not to spew,

Holding tight the metal strut.

~

Chills spilled, ice-water steeped,

Cold crept under my skin,

Frigid sea penetrated me,

Seeped deep-down within.

~

I took one moment to adjust,

Gathered my wits before I rushed,

Once more beneath ocean waves,

Kicking my legs for thrust.

~

Beneath the buoy a wire thread,

Led down into the sea,

With hands gripping, grip slipping,

I hauled-line ahead of me.

~

What little light grew less bright,

Whilst deeper I descended,

A murky gloom as if in a tomb,

Into gloaming depths extended.

~

About half-way, or so I thought,

Line gave way to chain,

Heavily rusted, barnacle encrusted,

Ripped my hands again, again.

~

What drove me on beyond this mark,

Towards sea-bed in the dark?

Nothing more than a promise made,

To free a heart lost in shade.

~

Insistant pain hindered my gain,

But downwards I persisted,

Pressure pressed with relentless zest,

Yet somehow I resisted.

~

When then touch-down upon the ground:

Feet sinking in silt sand.

 Darkness stole all sight from me,

Here in this fluid land.

~

By sense of touch I fumbled around,

Fingers feeling for a casket bound,

Enwound by chain, leaden blocks:

Layered silt, heavy rocks.

~

Whether by luck or curious fate: not a box,

But a tether of significant weight,

 Taut and tied to a riveted-plate,

Headed away, straight across the floor.

~

Without pause or hesitation,

Nor deviation from this line,

I pulled along at rapid pace,

Knowing there was little time.

~

Between rough rocks, through kelp sward,

 Hastening quicker, swimming hard,

Until the cable slackened, frayed:

My head reeled, my heart dismayed.

~

Frantic with panic in claggy sea,

I let go the line guiding me,

Both hands grabbled across the floor,

Desperately searching for Nevermore.

~

Short of air, close to despair,

Unanchored from iron chain,

With lungs burning, silt churning,

My will began to wain.

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 4) precedes this post. Part 6 to follow shortly ~

~*~

Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 4)

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 4) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~

~

The sea a grey tenebrous blue,

An expanse of nondescript hue,

Sepia fog restricted our view,

Easing out beyond the bay.

~

About the boat soft pitter-patter,

Raindrops fell, gently splattered.

Old oak oars splashed and spliced,

Propelling our flotation device.

~

Silent but for Nightingale’s song,

A quiet lament for one long gone,

Whose bonded heart beats o so strong,

 Whose tender love lives on-and-on.

~

Wave at our bow, wake at stern,

Sailing onwards, never turned,

Through mist, murk and mystery,

Closer to the heart of he.

~

With arms straining, hands sore,

Distant from far sandy shore,

Our boat pushed on quickly now,

Deeper into claggy cloud.

~

“Not far! Not far!” Nightingale sang:

Lifted in spirit as a buoyed-bell rang.

“Quickly, quickly,” she said to me,

“Save my love, set him free.”

~

When then a smudge of orange hue,

A florescent shade disrupted blue,

A spherical buoy secured by chain,

Topped an iron-strutted frame.

~

“Yes, yes,” cried the excited Chat,

Now sat on the floating form.

She’d curtailed her whine, secured a line,

Tied our boat to the platform.

~

Whilst I prepared Nightingale aired

Instructions for my task.

It wouldn’t do being confused,

‘Neath the sea I couldn’t ask.

~

“Dive, dive,” the songbird said,

“Dive to where the cable’s led.”

“Down, down, plunge straight ahead,”

“Down until you touch sea-bed.”

~

“There on the floor lies Nevermore.”

“In a box chained and weighted.”

“Loosen rocks, undo locks,”

“And my love is liberated.”

~

Perhaps now bolder to my shoulder,

She flew and nestled down.

“Safe and sound, soon homeward bound,”

“Soon back on firmer ground.”

~

A sudden swell tolled the bell,

As if warning of our trespass.

“Hurry, hurry, the tides do scurry,”

“Deep currents move so fast.”

~

She fluttered feathers then to my hand,

Perched resting on a finger.

“Stay too long you’ll be gone,”

“Neither pause nor linger.”

~

From my pocket I pulled the key,

Twas tied to thread carefully.

About my wrist I bound it tight,

Within my reach, within my sight.

~

 Then to the edge of our boat,

One step further onto the float,

Which rolled, tolled, tipped and pitched,

Ditching me in the sea.

~*~

~ Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 3) precedes this post. Part 5 to follow shortly ~

~*~