atop the coop waiting
always waiting watching constant watching a lifetime of watching and waiting sleeping too but always wary wary and cunning
on that my life their lives their deaths depend catch them off guard find or force an entry feather whirlwind blood so red sound abounds then escape back to my den prize in my jaws
cubs satisfied another day survived one more day alive to thrive before I start again one more fox one fewer chicken scales swinging a sort of balance is kept
Pen & Ink Drawing of George \frederick Watts’ sculptured bust of CLYTIE . . . by W.H.B.
In the verses below, I attempt to express Clytie’s plight when she finds her love for the Son God, Helios, rejected, and she is committed to watch his daily flight across the heavens in his winged chariot . Eventually she is transformed into a sunflower or heliotrope , condemned for ever to follow the sun’s movements across the sky.
CLYTIE
As dusk takes over from the day I stand on Helios’ shore and weep. Light for my soul, Lust for my life; These no more can I strive to keep.
Yet there is hope because the night Is followed by expectant day. The sun will rise With hope intact, And I’ll revive my destined way.
The languid sun will lift at dawn Over the shimmering tranquil sea. It is my dreams, My Holy Grail, And promises new hopes to me.
The sun renews its daily task. As Clytie, I still strive to meld Lovers’ aubade, Their serenade. With this till dusk my life is held.
Time’s chariot, its path I trace; Helios arcs across the sky. Till evening ends In blood red gore, And once again I die.
But then again the cycle breaks When dawn extends to dusk its kiss. It’s carmine clinch, Crimson caress, Herald again life’s feud with bliss.
Clytie is a figure from Ancient Greek mythology. She was a water nymph, daughter of Oceanus and Tethys in Greek mythology. Clytia loved Helios in vain.[ My Poem was Previously published – Sep., 2016 ]
‘Ow do, lass, tha’s a stunner, I aint seen ‘out like ‘thee afoor. Th’as luvly as t’sun after t’rain I’m as sure as I’m sure I am sure.
Tha’s such a reyt bobby-dazzler, Tha’s taken mi breath clear away And I’ll nivver find a better, So one day it’s a bridal bouquet.
And when we git married I’ll luv thee, I’ll look after thee till I die; And when we’re tigether in t’eaven Tha’ll still be a-dazzling me eye.
‘Bobby-dazzler’ was originally a North East England dialect term for a person who is affectionately considered as being beautiful or remarkable. In have attempted to write these 3 verses in a North Yorkshire dialect,
With bared feet and sadness in my soul I walk in the shallows the waves rippling to my bare feet I follow the ribs of the sand to their end in the swell of the next wave and by their disappearance I recognise the promise of their continuation for the world is in flux a life beginning as another ends memory fading at first soon settles into expectation an affirmation as the embers of all that cease to be are carried forward in the seeds of a future hope