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 IΒ 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.


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


12 thoughts on “Copse ‘n’ Corpse (Part 9)

    • Hey Opher,

      Late was the hour ‘neath dusted skies,
      When to Tintagel I ventured,
      To Merlin’s Cave I traipsed my way,
      ‘Tis where his spirit is centred.
      At turn of tide beside calm sea,
      Twas there the Sorcerer called to me,
      No more than a whisper stirring leaves,
      His voice soft upon the breeze.
      “Behold,” said he, “the folly of kings,”
      “Lies in ruins of tumbled stone.”
      “Do not befall the fall of such fools,”
      “Nirvana is your everlasting home.”

      Love and Peace, Namaste


  1. Argh, to escape by ones whits… Putting good use to the means available.. One wonders what could befall next ? I will have to wait for the next chapter to follow πŸ™‚
    Enjoy your Sunday Dewin.. πŸ™‚

    • Hey Sue,

      Sunshine again, ’tis another glorious day to savour. I trust you’ll enjoy every last drop.

      Yes indeed, somewhat in a tight spot, my adventuring antagonist had little else to rely on other than their wits. But whether such a plan would work in reality is another matter, yet the lines of a poem permits small degrees of artistic licence to offer a helping hand.

      Who knows what may happen next: certainly not I! As always I’m writing without a blue-print and confronting challenges as and when my mischievous pen presents them.

      Thanks Sue, have a pleasant afternoon. Take care.

      Love and Peace, Namaste,


      • So pleased the Sun is shining, here its been a mixture of Sunshine with heavy burst of showers.. but fine long enough for the lawns to get mowed and pond cleared a little.. πŸ™‚
        And I love the poetic licence to create inspirationally what the mind delivers to the pen.. πŸ™‚

        • As yet those heavy showers have failed to show here and I remain hopeful of a long dry day. There is talk of a BBQ later…a small gathering of friends…to which end I’ve busied myself this morning assisting with the building of a new fire-pit. All being well it’ll be used later else food will be oven-cooked: either way, the BBQ will go ahead.

          Thanks Sue, artistic licence is a highly adaptable device: a flexible tool quickly adjusted to suit a variety of awkward, sticky situations. I keep it readily to hand yet secreted away out of sight in my pen-box. πŸ™‚

          One wonders if the mind bends to the pen or the pen bends to the mind?


          • Enjoy your BBQ Dewin, and I am sure it dare not rain on your day πŸ™‚ as to which came first Pen or Mind.. πŸ™‚ Either way works.. When we just allow it to flow.. πŸ™‚

            • πŸ™‚ Whilst the garden could do with a drop or two, ’tis true rain would dampen good cheer, one hopes for sun all day long: Mother Nature do you hear!? πŸ™‚

              ‘Either way works. When we just allow it to flow.’ – indeed! As I often say: one has to keep the ‘ink’ in ‘thinking’ flowing else succumb to slowing.

              Thank you for stopping-by and commenting. Enjoy a wonderful day.

              Love and Peace,


  2. Hello Dewin,

    I am glad that you are between us again and even more that you have freed yourself from this gloomy sea. The longing for home gives us great power to achieve what we have envisioned 😊

    Have a nice evening πŸ˜‡


    • Hey Balle, how are you? πŸ™‚

      It’s good to have you (back) reading and commenting once again. Thank you for stopping-by and sharing kind thoughts.

      I’m so pleased it wasn’t me who plunged into that cold, briny sea! It was indeed a very gloomy domain. At one point I even wondered if the main character would simply give up, turn around and head back to the boat. However, it seemed the sea had other ideas and wasn’t prepared to let them go without a struggle. It took energy and effort to get the antagonist out again, but as you so rightly say, ‘the longing for home gave them great power to achieve what they’d envisioned.’ πŸ˜‰

      Diolch Balle. Cael noson ddymunol.



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