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Hey, name's Kat. Thanks for the visit. "But sometimes I pause in an unforeseen calm: I don't care what I am."
Sofia, Bulgaria
Love ~ writing ~ reading ~ religion ~ poetry ~ swimming ~ nature ~ sky ~ trees ~ old libraries ~ book`s smell ~ meditation …
Moon
I write sometimes or so I try
Poems
Grahame Jun 2014
THE LADY AND THE UNICORN
Grahame
Jun 2014
“My Lady! My Lady! Arise from your bower,
I’d show you something, come down from your tower!”
The maid into the Lady’s chamber goes,
she is intent on telling her news.
“My handmaid, my handmaid, what’s all the row?
Don’t you know I’ve been asleep until now?
I am in my bed, in nightclothes I’m dressed,
so please impart to me, that which you feel pressed.”
“My Lady! My Lady! Please get out of bed!
it needs to be shown you, it can’t just be said.
In your private garden is something to see,
you wouldn’t believe it if you heard it from me.”
The Lady arises, and in her clothes dight,
descends from the tower in the still of the night.
“Hurry, please hurry,” the handmaiden said,
“lest what I would show you has already fled.”
They reach the tower’s base, both breathing hard,
go out of the tower, and into the yard
That they walk across, right up to the gate,
which the Lady unlocks, though the hour is late.
This garden is private, the demesne of the Lady,
hedged and bowered, everywhere shady.
With windy gravel paths, carefully laid,
and only attended by the Lady and maid.
This is her refuge, her own privy lair,
where she’d repair, far from the care
Of running the castle, looking after the keep,
which often oppressed her, until she could weep.
Her husband, the Lord, is oft-times away,
in ‘The Field of Mars’, in the thick of the fray,
Leaving the Lady in the castle alone,
who, for a pastime’s made the garden her own.
She lovingly tends the plants and the trees,
which were chosen to tempt birds, butterflies and bees.
And, by selecting ones with strong scent,
she could know, by smelling, at night where she went.
She now knows this garden like the back of her hand,
and loves to walk through it, or simply to stand
Admiring the vistas, or taking the air,
now, lead by the maid, she follows to where
A unicorn lies, wounded with a spear,
stretched out in an arbour, showing no fear.
The Lady and maid, now hand-in-hand
slowly approach, and before it do stand.
“My Lady, my Lady, now do you see why
to observe it yourself I have brought you nigh?
If I’d said, in your garden was a unicorn,
I fear you would have treated my words with scorn.”
“My handmaid, my handmaid, yes, you’ve done right,
to bring me here, to show me this sight.
And now, we must help with this poor creature’s plight.
We’ll pull out the spear, I hope that’ll be right.”
“Return to the castle and fetch water hot,
and cloths to clean, and what simples we’ve got,
And needle and thread to mend this wound.
Hurry! Go now! Don’t just stound!”
Back to the castle the maid does hurry,
while, for the Lady, she does worry.
They’ve neither seen such a creature before,
and know not if a grudge it bore.
Slowly the Lady approaches the beast,
cinching her kirtle around her waist.
By its side on the ground she kneels,
and slowly reaching out, she feels
The unicorn’s flank, to try to decide
how far the spear has pierced its side,
While the unicorn, with lugubrious eyes,
gazes at her face as still it lies.
Soon the maid returns with the gear,
which she lays on the ground, conveniently near
To where the Lady is stroking the creature,
staring in wonder at each feature.
Two brown eyes, limpid and large,
a spiralling horn crowns its visage,
Muzzle and feet, all black as jet,
hide as white as milk, unset.
Ears pricked up, alert and keen,
tail and mane both long and sheyne.
They know not how long there it has lain,
with open mouth, panting in pain.
The maid hands the Lady a dampened cloth,
which she uses to mop up the blood, then doth
Grasp the shaft of the piercing spear,
and with one pull, draws it clear.
The unicorn gives just one start,
then lies there, still, although alert.
From the wound comes forth a little blood,
which the Lady staunches as best she could.
The Lady does the wound clean and dress,
and stitches the edges, neat as a seamstress.
She wipes the unicorn’s fevered brow,
then she and the maid wonder what to do now.
The sun’s rays over the garden wall creep,
So the arbour, still in shadow deep
Slowly brightens up, and then
the beams light up the unicorn, when
A flash of light blinds their eyes,
and when they can see, to their surprise,
At the place where lay the unicorn
there’s now a girl lying, looking forlorn.
Amazed, the Lady and handmaid stare
at the girl, with a stitched wound, lying there.
Seeing her naked, exposed to their sight,
they cover her form with a length of samite.
The sun does slowly the arbour warm,
and they think she’ll now be safe from harm,
Then gradually, she opens her eyes,
looks at them, and then she cries.
Her whole body with her sorrow shakes,
the arbour echoes with the sobs she makes,
She appears so fragile and delicate,
and seems to be inconsolate.
The Lady, sitting by the girl’s side,
is concerned that the wound might open wide.
So violent is the girl’s paroxysm,
that she fears it might cause the suture to schism.
So taking the young girl in her arms,
she cuddles her closely, to soothe her alarms,
And with gentle rocking to and fro,
the girl, exhausted, to sleep does go.
Later, the Lady feels the girl’s hot,
and realises she a fever has got.
From the simples she makes a febrifuge,
which she administers in the arbour refuge.
The sun is almost overhead,
so fleetingly the time has sped.
The arbour now is cool with shade,
while the Lady continues administering aid.
The samite cloth is soaking wet,
so some of the Lady’s clothes does the maid get.
Also fresh water, because she does think
the girl might like a cooling drink.
She sees the girl is sitting up,
so offers her water in a cup,
And then offers her a silken gown,
though wonders if she can dress on her own.
The Lady asks, “Can you put this dress on?”
Weakly, the girls says, “I’ll try anon.”
Although, when she tries, she cannot stand,
so the maid offers to give her a hand.
With the help of the Lady and the maid,
in the dress, the girl is arrayed.
And then she says, still seeming dismayed,
“Thank you for your help, I’ve been so afraid.
And if you’ll continue sitting near,
I’ll discover to you just why I am here.”
“My stepmother did me cruelly treat,
though when with my father, she seemed so sweet,
And because his love, he between us divided,
to separate us, she then decided”
“She semblanced gaity by day,
while always looking for a way
To make me seem as a fool, or worse,
and to appear in all things as perverse.”
“At night she magic studiéd,
while my father, drugged, lay asleep in bed.
I tried to tell him of her deceit,
though he always maintained she would not cheat.”
“Eventually, she found a way
of letting me stay a fille by day
While becoming a unicorn filly at night.
Against her magic I could not fight.”
“I knew it would break my father’s heart
to discover his wife had used black art,
And so I thought it a kinder way
to pretend to go on holiday.”
“I forged a letter from a friend
inviting me to go and spend
A few weeks visiting her home,
and took the chance to distantly roam.
And that is why I happened to come
into these woods, near your home.”
“Because I’m a unicorn at night,
I live in the woods, like an eremite.
I try to keep to my cave by day.
I have found this is the best way.”
“As a lady in the wood,
it’s difficult to find any food.
My clothes are ragged and all torn,
I’m better off as a unicorn.”
“As a unicorn, I’m able to eat.
There’s grass all around, and shoots so sweet.
There are ponds and streams where I can drink,
and this is my best chance I think.”
“I left my cave early last night,
however, there was still some light.
The sun had only just then set,
and I, some grass, was eager to eat.”
“It was then I did realise
I wasn’t alone. To my surprise
A band of hunters, going home,
by chance through your woods did come.”
“They, straightway, their horns did sound,
and then let slip their pack of hounds.
I desperately fled away,
and from my cave was forced to stray.”
“I managed, in front of the pack, to keep,
meanwhile, my strength, did slowly seep.
On reaching a river that did rapidly flow,
I desperately leapt it, and over did go.”
“Just as I landed on the further bank,
I felt a sharp pain in my flank.
A huntsman had chanced a spear to throw;
I thought I’d been given a mortal blow.
Because the hounds couldn’t the river cross,
they had to reckon me as a loss.”
“I carried on, full of fear,
until, to the castle wall I came near.
Then seeing a garden gate open wide,
I managed, painfully, to struggle inside.”
“I staggered into this arbour deep,
hoping it would me safely keep.
Then, passing close by, walked your maid,
and I made a noise though I was afraid.”
“I didn’t want to die alone,
so I made a sound before she was gone.
I only wanted someone to be there,
I didn’t expect to receive any care.”
“Your maid came in, quite unafraid,
and saw me, as on the ground I laid.
And from her eye fell down a tear,
so then I knew I’d naught to fear.”
“I could now die in company,
except your handmaid said to me,
‘You stay there, some help I’ll get,
I will not let you die just yet.’”
“So she brought you, and you helped me,
and for that I’ll always grateful be.
And now, if you’ll kindly open that door,
I’ll return to my cave and you’ll see me no more.”
The Lady and her maid said, “No!”
adding, “from here we shall not let you go.
You have still got a crippling wound
and for it to mend it needs to be bound.”
“My maid can fetch some serving men.
They’ll carry you to my chamber, and then
We can give to you the care you need.
With this plan I hope you’ll concede.”
The girl said, “Nay, this I must gainsay,
I really must now go away.
How do you think you’ll cope with the sight
of a unicorn in your bedroom at night?”
The Lady and handmaid thought about this.
Then the Lady said, “I wis!
My old nursemaid lives near the wood.
We’ll get you to her, I know we could.”
“She has a cottage and a little land,
a stable and outbuildings round it stand.
For love of me she’ll look after you,
I think that is the best thing to do.”
“My handmaid, fetch some serving men,
and ask them to bring my litter, and then
They can carry the girl to my old nursemaid.
You’ll be safe there, look not afraid.”
The handmaid goes to find some men,
while the girl and Lady stay snug in their den.
The girl tells the Lady about her life,
and the struggle to cope with the constant strife
Which arose from the stepmother treating her ill,
while her father seemed totally bent to her will.
The maid returns with the men and the litter
and though the girl said she does feel fitter,
They place her on it, and she’s then transported
carefully to the nurse’s home. All is sorted.
To alert the nurse, the maid goes on ahead,
and the nurse listens carefully to what is said.
She quickly makes a spare room ready
to look after the girl, who is so needy.
The girl is gently placed on a cot,
while the nursemaid, making some water hot,
Gives the girl a sleeping potion,
and covers the sutured wound with a lotion.
She binds the wound with cloth that’s clean,
then asks the Lady what it does mean.
The Lady asks her nurse, so dear,
to keep it secret, which the nurse does swear.
The nurse then listens, quite bemused,
how the wounded girl’s been so badly used.
And the outcome, really tragic,
of the stepmother’s evil use of magic.
The nurse says that of course the girl may stay,
and the garden’s enclosed, so she will not stray
At night, when become a unicorn,
so she should be quite safe there alone.
And, furthermore, while the girl is there,
she’ll try to find a way to save her.
The Lady and maid walk back to the tower,
and start climbing the stairs to the Lady’s bower.
The Lady asks the maid about the gate,
if she knows why it had been open so late.
The handmaid said, “I must confess,
I knew the gate was open, yes.
Oh please try not to be angry with me,
I had unlocked it with my key.”
“Why were you out, my maid, at night?
Why couldn’t your business wait until light?”
“My Lady, I have made a match,
a soldier who’s in your night-watch.
His duty’s at night, he sleeps by day,
so I have managed to find a way
To see him sometimes, if I can,
Together, we have made a plan.”
“Although he’s always on duty late,
he’s occasionally stationed by the gate
Of this garden, near the bower,
and then he lets me know the hour.”
“When he’s there, I use my key,
to enter the garden secretly.
I go through it, to the gate,
then open it, for some time with my mate.”
“So I suppose, when late last night,
I had opened the gate for a sight
Of my leman, I must have forgotten to
close it tight when to him I did go.”
“Then, later on, when going home
through the garden, I heard a moan.
And tryi
I’d show you something, come down from your tower!”
The maid into the Lady’s chamber goes,
she is intent on telling her news.
“My handmaid, my handmaid, what’s all the row?
Don’t you know I’ve been asleep until now?
I am in my bed, in nightclothes I’m dressed,
so please impart to me, that which you feel pressed.”
“My Lady! My Lady! Please get out of bed!
it needs to be shown you, it can’t just be said.
In your private garden is something to see,
you wouldn’t believe it if you heard it from me.”
The Lady arises, and in her clothes dight,
descends from the tower in the still of the night.
“Hurry, please hurry,” the handmaiden said,
“lest what I would show you has already fled.”
They reach the tower’s base, both breathing hard,
go out of the tower, and into the yard
That they walk across, right up to the gate,
which the Lady unlocks, though the hour is late.
This garden is private, the demesne of the Lady,
hedged and bowered, everywhere shady.
With windy gravel paths, carefully laid,
and only attended by the Lady and maid.
This is her refuge, her own privy lair,
where she’d repair, far from the care
Of running the castle, looking after the keep,
which often oppressed her, until she could weep.
Her husband, the Lord, is oft-times away,
in ‘The Field of Mars’, in the thick of the fray,
Leaving the Lady in the castle alone,
who, for a pastime’s made the garden her own.
She lovingly tends the plants and the trees,
which were chosen to tempt birds, butterflies and bees.
And, by selecting ones with strong scent,
she could know, by smelling, at night where she went.
She now knows this garden like the back of her hand,
and loves to walk through it, or simply to stand
Admiring the vistas, or taking the air,
now, lead by the maid, she follows to where
A unicorn lies, wounded with a spear,
stretched out in an arbour, showing no fear.
The Lady and maid, now hand-in-hand
slowly approach, and before it do stand.
“My Lady, my Lady, now do you see why
to observe it yourself I have brought you nigh?
If I’d said, in your garden was a unicorn,
I fear you would have treated my words with scorn.”
“My handmaid, my handmaid, yes, you’ve done right,
to bring me here, to show me this sight.
And now, we must help with this poor creature’s plight.
We’ll pull out the spear, I hope that’ll be right.”
“Return to the castle and fetch water hot,
and cloths to clean, and what simples we’ve got,
And needle and thread to mend this wound.
Hurry! Go now! Don’t just stound!”
Back to the castle the maid does hurry,
while, for the Lady, she does worry.
They’ve neither seen such a creature before,
and know not if a grudge it bore.
Slowly the Lady approaches the beast,
cinching her kirtle around her waist.
By its side on the ground she kneels,
and slowly reaching out, she feels
The unicorn’s flank, to try to decide
how far the spear has pierced its side,
While the unicorn, with lugubrious eyes,
gazes at her face as still it lies.
Soon the maid returns with the gear,
which she lays on the ground, conveniently near
To where the Lady is stroking the creature,
staring in wonder at each feature.
Two brown eyes, limpid and large,
a spiralling horn crowns its visage,
Muzzle and feet, all black as jet,
hide as white as milk, unset.
Ears pricked up, alert and keen,
tail and mane both long and sheyne.
They know not how long there it has lain,
with open mouth, panting in pain.
The maid hands the Lady a dampened cloth,
which she uses to mop up the blood, then doth
Grasp the shaft of the piercing spear,
and with one pull, draws it clear.
The unicorn gives just one start,
then lies there, still, although alert.
From the wound comes forth a little blood,
which the Lady staunches as best she could.
The Lady does the wound clean and dress,
and stitches the edges, neat as a seamstress.
She wipes the unicorn’s fevered brow,
then she and the maid wonder what to do now.
The sun’s rays over the garden wall creep,
So the arbour, still in shadow deep
Slowly brightens up, and then
the beams light up the unicorn, when
A flash of light blinds their eyes,
and when they can see, to their surprise,
At the place where lay the unicorn
there’s now a girl lying, looking forlorn.
Amazed, the Lady and handmaid stare
at the girl, with a stitched wound, lying there.
Seeing her naked, exposed to their sight,
they cover her form with a length of samite.
The sun does slowly the arbour warm,
and they think she’ll now be safe from harm,
Then gradually, she opens her eyes,
looks at them, and then she cries.
Her whole body with her sorrow shakes,
the arbour echoes with the sobs she makes,
She appears so fragile and delicate,
and seems to be inconsolate.
The Lady, sitting by the girl’s side,
is concerned that the wound might open wide.
So violent is the girl’s paroxysm,
that she fears it might cause the suture to schism.
So taking the young girl in her arms,
she cuddles her closely, to soothe her alarms,
And with gentle rocking to and fro,
the girl, exhausted, to sleep does go.
Later, the Lady feels the girl’s hot,
and realises she a fever has got.
From the simples she makes a febrifuge,
which she administers in the arbour refuge.
The sun is almost overhead,
so fleetingly the time has sped.
The arbour now is cool with shade,
while the Lady continues administering aid.
The samite cloth is soaking wet,
so some of the Lady’s clothes does the maid get.
Also fresh water, because she does think
the girl might like a cooling drink.
She sees the girl is sitting up,
so offers her water in a cup,
And then offers her a silken gown,
though wonders if she can dress on her own.
The Lady asks, “Can you put this dress on?”
Weakly, the girls says, “I’ll try anon.”
Although, when she tries, she cannot stand,
so the maid offers to give her a hand.
With the help of the Lady and the maid,
in the dress, the girl is arrayed.
And then she says, still seeming dismayed,
“Thank you for your help, I’ve been so afraid.
And if you’ll continue sitting near,
I’ll discover to you just why I am here.”
“My stepmother did me cruelly treat,
though when with my father, she seemed so sweet,
And because his love, he between us divided,
to separate us, she then decided”
“She semblanced gaity by day,
while always looking for a way
To make me seem as a fool, or worse,
and to appear in all things as perverse.”
“At night she magic studiéd,
while my father, drugged, lay asleep in bed.
I tried to tell him of her deceit,
though he always maintained she would not cheat.”
“Eventually, she found a way
of letting me stay a fille by day
While becoming a unicorn filly at night.
Against her magic I could not fight.”
“I knew it would break my father’s heart
to discover his wife had used black art,
And so I thought it a kinder way
to pretend to go on holiday.”
“I forged a letter from a friend
inviting me to go and spend
A few weeks visiting her home,
and took the chance to distantly roam.
And that is why I happened to come
into these woods, near your home.”
“Because I’m a unicorn at night,
I live in the woods, like an eremite.
I try to keep to my cave by day.
I have found this is the best way.”
“As a lady in the wood,
it’s difficult to find any food.
My clothes are ragged and all torn,
I’m better off as a unicorn.”
“As a unicorn, I’m able to eat.
There’s grass all around, and shoots so sweet.
There are ponds and streams where I can drink,
and this is my best chance I think.”
“I left my cave early last night,
however, there was still some light.
The sun had only just then set,
and I, some grass, was eager to eat.”
“It was then I did realise
I wasn’t alone. To my surprise
A band of hunters, going home,
by chance through your woods did come.”
“They, straightway, their horns did sound,
and then let slip their pack of hounds.
I desperately fled away,
and from my cave was forced to stray.”
“I managed, in front of the pack, to keep,
meanwhile, my strength, did slowly seep.
On reaching a river that did rapidly flow,
I desperately leapt it, and over did go.”
“Just as I landed on the further bank,
I felt a sharp pain in my flank.
A huntsman had chanced a spear to throw;
I thought I’d been given a mortal blow.
Because the hounds couldn’t the river cross,
they had to reckon me as a loss.”
“I carried on, full of fear,
until, to the castle wall I came near.
Then seeing a garden gate open wide,
I managed, painfully, to struggle inside.”
“I staggered into this arbour deep,
hoping it would me safely keep.
Then, passing close by, walked your maid,
and I made a noise though I was afraid.”
“I didn’t want to die alone,
so I made a sound before she was gone.
I only wanted someone to be there,
I didn’t expect to receive any care.”
“Your maid came in, quite unafraid,
and saw me, as on the ground I laid.
And from her eye fell down a tear,
so then I knew I’d naught to fear.”
“I could now die in company,
except your handmaid said to me,
‘You stay there, some help I’ll get,
I will not let you die just yet.’”
“So she brought you, and you helped me,
and for that I’ll always grateful be.
And now, if you’ll kindly open that door,
I’ll return to my cave and you’ll see me no more.”
The Lady and her maid said, “No!”
adding, “from here we shall not let you go.
You have still got a crippling wound
and for it to mend it needs to be bound.”
“My maid can fetch some serving men.
They’ll carry you to my chamber, and then
We can give to you the care you need.
With this plan I hope you’ll concede.”
The girl said, “Nay, this I must gainsay,
I really must now go away.
How do you think you’ll cope with the sight
of a unicorn in your bedroom at night?”
The Lady and handmaid thought about this.
Then the Lady said, “I wis!
My old nursemaid lives near the wood.
We’ll get you to her, I know we could.”
“She has a cottage and a little land,
a stable and outbuildings round it stand.
For love of me she’ll look after you,
I think that is the best thing to do.”
“My handmaid, fetch some serving men,
and ask them to bring my litter, and then
They can carry the girl to my old nursemaid.
You’ll be safe there, look not afraid.”
The handmaid goes to find some men,
while the girl and Lady stay snug in their den.
The girl tells the Lady about her life,
and the struggle to cope with the constant strife
Which arose from the stepmother treating her ill,
while her father seemed totally bent to her will.
The maid returns with the men and the litter
and though the girl said she does feel fitter,
They place her on it, and she’s then transported
carefully to the nurse’s home. All is sorted.
To alert the nurse, the maid goes on ahead,
and the nurse listens carefully to what is said.
She quickly makes a spare room ready
to look after the girl, who is so needy.
The girl is gently placed on a cot,
while the nursemaid, making some water hot,
Gives the girl a sleeping potion,
and covers the sutured wound with a lotion.
She binds the wound with cloth that’s clean,
then asks the Lady what it does mean.
The Lady asks her nurse, so dear,
to keep it secret, which the nurse does swear.
The nurse then listens, quite bemused,
how the wounded girl’s been so badly used.
And the outcome, really tragic,
of the stepmother’s evil use of magic.
The nurse says that of course the girl may stay,
and the garden’s enclosed, so she will not stray
At night, when become a unicorn,
so she should be quite safe there alone.
And, furthermore, while the girl is there,
she’ll try to find a way to save her.
The Lady and maid walk back to the tower,
and start climbing the stairs to the Lady’s bower.
The Lady asks the maid about the gate,
if she knows why it had been open so late.
The handmaid said, “I must confess,
I knew the gate was open, yes.
Oh please try not to be angry with me,
I had unlocked it with my key.”
“Why were you out, my maid, at night?
Why couldn’t your business wait until light?”
“My Lady, I have made a match,
a soldier who’s in your night-watch.
His duty’s at night, he sleeps by day,
so I have managed to find a way
To see him sometimes, if I can,
Together, we have made a plan.”
“Although he’s always on duty late,
he’s occasionally stationed by the gate
Of this garden, near the bower,
and then he lets me know the hour.”
“When he’s there, I use my key,
to enter the garden secretly.
I go through it, to the gate,
then open it, for some time with my mate.”
“So I suppose, when late last night,
I had opened the gate for a sight
Of my leman, I must have forgotten to
close it tight when to him I did go.”
“Then, later on, when going home
through the garden, I heard a moan.
And tryi
Judgson blessing
Jun 2015
king Cophetua and Beggar Maid is inspired of the painting of Sir Edward Burne-Jones (1884 , England ) the painting run about an old legend of king that found that his love for Beggar Maid was greater than anything his possess : wealth and power . In that painting of Burne-Jones , the king Cophetua was moon stroke of the beauty of a Beggar Maid ,instead of her naked appearance in regard to this earthing consideration , though he was allured by her state and deemed the Beggar Maid would trade her natural beauty upon worldly elevation .But anemones was thrown about around the Beggar Maid standing . Anemone is the sign of refused love , to the king most astonishment and great deceit .Here lain the elevation of love above all thing consideration ; wealth , power and others .the painting also ran another significant meaning to Sir Edward Burne-Jones : its an undercurrent self resentments about chaos upon Frances Graham , a lady he was so devoted that got married one year earlier the painting .
What beauty , did behold a lady .
for what a fame completely shadowy.
lo, in dim recess of England a lady did dwell .
from head to toe a feature exquisitely so well .
her face is the panorama of crimson hue .
with dimple and frown so divinely imbue .
she is effigy of the culmination of word beauty .
peeping her through day long ; you will never feel thirsty.
all her face is settled in heavenly attire of smile .
for her possession of beauty is unique worldly simile .
her body had the mark of excellent work of art .
no nymph , no fairy could possess her frame impart .
princess of heaven ,celestial beauty of holy attire .
for your rendition of beauty a painter worship at your retire .
a smile ; radiant and blatant a devotion of all thing heavenly .
a couple of lips very in regular design , most delicate work of father holy.
the short up turn of the upper golden lip in rosy glow .
with lower lip so justly fitted as lid and bowl .
nay it deemed the most work of legendary painter hand .
but now what a glorious gait of cadence did withstand .
where in remotest antique could we withheld such beauty ?
from head to toe all the feature luridly in unity .
little upwards the average height with magnificent bearing .
her arms and legs proportionally fitted in good caring .
the neck is culmination of adjusted rings darting as snake .
when she depart all her part spring like a dance at music .
slim and fitted with fitting body as a young mutated snake .
but i warrant all thing upon her hip jingling spring like .
her look naked you and everything with impure world .
well begrounded as reflex through giant mirror .
meeting with her personality is a kind of celestial discovery.
like discovery of a gold pit or gas gush in desert of misery .
she betoken of kind of aura that prevails peace .
but Beggar she was at her secluded place .
with a smile she attracts but beg worldly sympathy .
not a corrupted heart or soul she believe in the holy trinity .
what a beauty to wasted but in shameful mendicancy .
the sagacious spirited dimly alluded with grin .
for all the hole tandem dwelt but in rich lustrine .
the quantity is the mother of all pain and sin .
but chastity is holy devotion all in pure spiriting .
oh, what good for us if we just live in nothing but lust .
money, fame and other elevations are vile and endless lost .
pure beauty you behold with pure noble spirit .
rich or poor do only one thing :run away from ignominy .
the Beggar Maid was sitting upon her recess and shadowy .
lo, trodden king Cophetua back of horse of finely white garb .
and riding sat majestically ***** like state pole in richly parade.
perfume and the richness of articulation stole through and filled the momentum .
with guards and valet finely polite and alerted at the extremum .
what a cadence ! what a sight ! as heaven trotting herd .
but lulled in mostly attire and paraded mostly in gold .
with a look the purest radiant and the noblest ever been .
nothing but a grandeur and riches were what to be seen .
settled on horse so holy that was moved as not touching the soil .
king Cophetua trotted and commanded but with moderate majestic control .
beheld with the Beggar Maid that beauty was a heavenly allure .
halt he made and laid his feet on ground with real frantic gesture .
in obsequious and excess real gesture drove to his knees .
and held altogether ***** airy and up tall .
upon the King procession on his knees the Maid took on in respect.
with stature all slanted flat across the ground all beaming in light .
what grandeur or glory fitted before the Maid most alluring ?
nay,fame ,riches ,noble , power ,cunning nor learning .
all but are subjected and tamed ,transformed into nothing.
king Cophetua is a glory ,but pure beauty is holy not a thing stand pure beauty.
for the worship of our splendor is the betoken kind spiritually .
the Beggar Maid is a right down deprived and seemed a cursed sin .
but pure beauty beholds with pure resplendent holy garden .
what life led you through ?behold there is no wealth down here more your soul .
and you are diving in filthy abode and lamenting your spirit in foul .
nay, beauty keep out of lust and covetousness and preserve your spirit .
cause none ,but only you will stand when is the last verdict .
the maid garbed in silken attire float so soft and dainty .
king Cophetua in his mighty clad covered with gold is holy .
i seen you are a beauty , entreated he in lowest musical resonant voice .
and i deemed make you you the praise of my ever unique choice .
yet before God and before mortal i would worship you as holy throne .
the Maid as voice as lute and lyre sang but in sweet musical tune .
my King im as much obliged though unworthy servant of your kingdom .
all the honor is for me ,and upon my foil state is for me a bloom .
my honor is regardless said he ,i fain treat you as an equal .
now deign tell me what can i do to you cause i feel towards you loyal .
glory be to Lord !for you philanthropic reverence my Lord .
for i need nothing more but, 'give me today my daily bread '.
appalled but aghast upon the Maid humble and unequivocal demand .
he stretched ***** in mournful and sad air of command .
and took quite survey of the Maid that is nothing but pretty creature .
for his wildness dreams he never seen such purity upon his pasture .
yet abashed with the Maid demand ,a lesson of life of great enormity .
something somehow weird and unusual stroke him about the Maid personality.
but he restated once more i feel hearty and kind towards you then .
you might tell me that you need in life now and then .
and sat ***** fancying himself of new pleasant answer .
oh King retorted the latter i had formulated my need .
for faith under and heaven above i have no greed .
nettled he settled his curled hair back thrown .
and so should it be as you but did deem .
and nothing but here receive a dime .
What beauty , did behold a lady .
for what a fame completely shadowy.
lo, in dim recess of England a lady did dwell .
from head to toe a feature exquisitely so well .
her face is the panorama of crimson hue .
with dimple and frown so divinely imbue .
she is effigy of the culmination of word beauty .
peeping her through day long ; you will never feel thirsty.
all her face is settled in heavenly attire of smile .
for her possession of beauty is unique worldly simile .
her body had the mark of excellent work of art .
no nymph , no fairy could possess her frame impart .
princess of heaven ,celestial beauty of holy attire .
for your rendition of beauty a painter worship at your retire .
a smile ; radiant and blatant a devotion of all thing heavenly .
a couple of lips very in regular design , most delicate work of father holy.
the short up turn of the upper golden lip in rosy glow .
with lower lip so justly fitted as lid and bowl .
nay it deemed the most work of legendary painter hand .
but now what a glorious gait of cadence did withstand .
where in remotest antique could we withheld such beauty ?
from head to toe all the feature luridly in unity .
little upwards the average height with magnificent bearing .
her arms and legs proportionally fitted in good caring .
the neck is culmination of adjusted rings darting as snake .
when she depart all her part spring like a dance at music .
slim and fitted with fitting body as a young mutated snake .
but i warrant all thing upon her hip jingling spring like .
her look naked you and everything with impure world .
well begrounded as reflex through giant mirror .
meeting with her personality is a kind of celestial discovery.
like discovery of a gold pit or gas gush in desert of misery .
she betoken of kind of aura that prevails peace .
but Beggar she was at her secluded place .
with a smile she attracts but beg worldly sympathy .
not a corrupted heart or soul she believe in the holy trinity .
what a beauty to wasted but in shameful mendicancy .
the sagacious spirited dimly alluded with grin .
for all the hole tandem dwelt but in rich lustrine .
the quantity is the mother of all pain and sin .
but chastity is holy devotion all in pure spiriting .
oh, what good for us if we just live in nothing but lust .
money, fame and other elevations are vile and endless lost .
pure beauty you behold with pure noble spirit .
rich or poor do only one thing :run away from ignominy .
the Beggar Maid was sitting upon her recess and shadowy .
lo, trodden king Cophetua back of horse of finely white garb .
and riding sat majestically ***** like state pole in richly parade.
perfume and the richness of articulation stole through and filled the momentum .
with guards and valet finely polite and alerted at the extremum .
what a cadence ! what a sight ! as heaven trotting herd .
but lulled in mostly attire and paraded mostly in gold .
with a look the purest radiant and the noblest ever been .
nothing but a grandeur and riches were what to be seen .
settled on horse so holy that was moved as not touching the soil .
king Cophetua trotted and commanded but with moderate majestic control .
beheld with the Beggar Maid that beauty was a heavenly allure .
halt he made and laid his feet on ground with real frantic gesture .
in obsequious and excess real gesture drove to his knees .
and held altogether ***** airy and up tall .
upon the King procession on his knees the Maid took on in respect.
with stature all slanted flat across the ground all beaming in light .
what grandeur or glory fitted before the Maid most alluring ?
nay,fame ,riches ,noble , power ,cunning nor learning .
all but are subjected and tamed ,transformed into nothing.
king Cophetua is a glory ,but pure beauty is holy not a thing stand pure beauty.
for the worship of our splendor is the betoken kind spiritually .
the Beggar Maid is a right down deprived and seemed a cursed sin .
but pure beauty beholds with pure resplendent holy garden .
what life led you through ?behold there is no wealth down here more your soul .
and you are diving in filthy abode and lamenting your spirit in foul .
nay, beauty keep out of lust and covetousness and preserve your spirit .
cause none ,but only you will stand when is the last verdict .
the maid garbed in silken attire float so soft and dainty .
king Cophetua in his mighty clad covered with gold is holy .
i seen you are a beauty , entreated he in lowest musical resonant voice .
and i deemed make you you the praise of my ever unique choice .
yet before God and before mortal i would worship you as holy throne .
the Maid as voice as lute and lyre sang but in sweet musical tune .
my King im as much obliged though unworthy servant of your kingdom .
all the honor is for me ,and upon my foil state is for me a bloom .
my honor is regardless said he ,i fain treat you as an equal .
now deign tell me what can i do to you cause i feel towards you loyal .
glory be to Lord !for you philanthropic reverence my Lord .
for i need nothing more but, 'give me today my daily bread '.
appalled but aghast upon the Maid humble and unequivocal demand .
he stretched ***** in mournful and sad air of command .
and took quite survey of the Maid that is nothing but pretty creature .
for his wildness dreams he never seen such purity upon his pasture .
yet abashed with the Maid demand ,a lesson of life of great enormity .
something somehow weird and unusual stroke him about the Maid personality.
but he restated once more i feel hearty and kind towards you then .
you might tell me that you need in life now and then .
and sat ***** fancying himself of new pleasant answer .
oh King retorted the latter i had formulated my need .
for faith under and heaven above i have no greed .
nettled he settled his curled hair back thrown .
and so should it be as you but did deem .
and nothing but here receive a dime .
Terry Collett Dec 2013
ALICE AND THE HORSES.
Terry Collett
Dec 2013
Alice walks with
the thin maid
to the stables, holding
the thin hand with
red knuckles, the
mild limp crossing
the narrow path like
a wounded ship. Do
you like the horses,
then? the maid asks,
bringing the eyes
upon the child,
holding tight the
pale pink hand.
Alice nods, yes,
I like the black one,
like its dark eyes
and coat. The maid
eyes the pinafore,
the hair tidy and neat,
the shiny shoes, the
tiny hand in hers.
Have you ridden
any yet? the maid
asks. No, not allowed
as yet, Alice says,
feeling the red thumb
rub the back of her
hand. Shame, the maid
says, perhaps soon.
Alice doesn't think so,
neither her father nor
the new nanny will
permit that; her mother
says she may, but that
amounts to little, in
the motions of things.
She can smell the
horses, hay and dung.
The red hand lets her
loose. The stable master
stares at her, his thick
brows bordering his
dark brown eyes,
conker like in their
hardness and colour.
Have you come to
look at the horses?
he says, holding a
horse near to her.
She nods, stares
at the horse, brown,
tall, sweating,
loudly snorting.
The maid stares
at the horse, stands
next to the child,
hand on the arm.
You're not to ride
them yet, he says,
but you can view,
I'm told. Alice runs
her small palm down
the horse's leg and
belly, warm, smooth,
the horse indifferent,
snorting, moving the
groom master aside.
The maid holds the
child close to her.
Be all right, he won't
harm, he says, smiling.
He leads the horse away,
the horse swaying to
a secret music, clip-
clop-clip-clop. Alice
watches the departing
horse. Come on, the
maid says, let's see
the others and lifts
the child up to view
the other horse in the
stable over the half
open door, then along
to see others in other
half doors. Alice smiles
at the sight and smells
and sounds. She senses
the red hands holding
her up, strong yet thin,
the fingers around her
waist. Having seen them
all, the maid puts her
down gently. Ain't that
good? the maid says.
Alice smiles, yes, love
them, she says. She
feels the thin hand, hold
her pale pink one again,
as they make their way
back to the house, the
slow trot of the limping
gait, the maid's thumb
rubbing her hand, smiling
through eyes and lips,
the morning sun blessing
their heads through the
trees and branches above.
if only, Alice thinks, looking
sidelong on at the thin
maid's smile, her father
did this, and showed such love.
the thin maid
to the stables, holding
the thin hand with
red knuckles, the
mild limp crossing
the narrow path like
a wounded ship. Do
you like the horses,
then? the maid asks,
bringing the eyes
upon the child,
holding tight the
pale pink hand.
Alice nods, yes,
I like the black one,
like its dark eyes
and coat. The maid
eyes the pinafore,
the hair tidy and neat,
the shiny shoes, the
tiny hand in hers.
Have you ridden
any yet? the maid
asks. No, not allowed
as yet, Alice says,
feeling the red thumb
rub the back of her
hand. Shame, the maid
says, perhaps soon.
Alice doesn't think so,
neither her father nor
the new nanny will
permit that; her mother
says she may, but that
amounts to little, in
the motions of things.
She can smell the
horses, hay and dung.
The red hand lets her
loose. The stable master
stares at her, his thick
brows bordering his
dark brown eyes,
conker like in their
hardness and colour.
Have you come to
look at the horses?
he says, holding a
horse near to her.
She nods, stares
at the horse, brown,
tall, sweating,
loudly snorting.
The maid stares
at the horse, stands
next to the child,
hand on the arm.
You're not to ride
them yet, he says,
but you can view,
I'm told. Alice runs
her small palm down
the horse's leg and
belly, warm, smooth,
the horse indifferent,
snorting, moving the
groom master aside.
The maid holds the
child close to her.
Be all right, he won't
harm, he says, smiling.
He leads the horse away,
the horse swaying to
a secret music, clip-
clop-clip-clop. Alice
watches the departing
horse. Come on, the
maid says, let's see
the others and lifts
the child up to view
the other horse in the
stable over the half
open door, then along
to see others in other
half doors. Alice smiles
at the sight and smells
and sounds. She senses
the red hands holding
her up, strong yet thin,
the fingers around her
waist. Having seen them
all, the maid puts her
down gently. Ain't that
good? the maid says.
Alice smiles, yes, love
them, she says. She
feels the thin hand, hold
her pale pink one again,
as they make their way
back to the house, the
slow trot of the limping
gait, the maid's thumb
rubbing her hand, smiling
through eyes and lips,
the morning sun blessing
their heads through the
trees and branches above.
if only, Alice thinks, looking
sidelong on at the thin
maid's smile, her father
did this, and showed such love.