Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
No, no! Go from me. I have left her lately.
I will not spoil my sheath with lesser brightness,
For my surrounding air hath a new lightness;
Slight are her arms, yet they have bound me straitly
And left me cloaked as with a gauze of æther;
As with sweet leaves; as with subtle clearness.
Oh, I have picked up magic in her nearness
To sheathe me half in half the things that sheathe her.
No, no! Go from me. I have still the flavour,
Soft as spring wind that’s come from birchen bowers.
Green come the shoots, aye April in the branches,
As winter’s wound with her sleight hand she staunches,
Hath of the trees a likeness of the savour:
As white as their bark, so white this lady’s hours.
Sarah Spang Feb 2016
The tourniquet
That staunches the onslaught
Of thoughts is precarious;
Sometimes running it's course
And becoming so soiled
That things leak through the cracks.
Those days are difficult
Two hands and a will of steel
Mean nothing...
He slips out and around my fingers
Staining everything with bright
Poignant memories of another time.
My hands, on occasion, are enough
And I'm all I need
Holding the edges tight
Teeth gritted, waiting for the sides to knit
Into something strong and new.
When the tourniquet is fresh though
I remember why I need it so much
Remember the softness of cloth again my
Bruised flesh and sign in the heady relief
He offers.
I don'twantdon'tneed everything hiding behind this flesh
Seeping out constantly
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
S A Knight Mar 2010
I. Aprilis

You wished the summer for no one
moments of white wilderness
stars in the blood
sepaled bees scatter
drown each day as all lights
unmade pollen blossoming among
fistfuls of paper tasks
busied thought scrolls with the Seen
afternoon feathers multiply
white honey of Aries


II. Julius

Months as paper pass flitting
through the screens that
separate outdoors from in where
light pools on an ancient carpet and
summer lay broken in pieces
on the floor like
so much shattered vinyl
what happens to the trapped light then, as
it ages, it thickens
curdles in the stale drapes
staunches awareness of
time the moon
is slowly
drifting away
from Earth


III. Octus

Apples fall on the rotten dusty ground we
threw them, trapped in the speckled atmosphere of decades
that never rinses clean you swore
we could see Venus if
the clouds would sit right
Aphrodite in blue jeans a ladder
in darkness is still
a ladder


IV. Januarius

Color dissolves and
hibernates underground grey winds
stampede through the Roman Year
like the ghosts of unchained thoroughbreds
all the bees have drowned their honey
spread thin across the blackened sky   when
everything is upside down
stars become seeds
Still Crazy Aug 2017
My body

disembodied step by step,
no disambiguation
or neutral observers
to go oy
or shush or protest

disunited piece by piece,
arms disarmed,
legs lanced and amputated,

yet he/she lives on,
chest and head,
and doesn't protest,
or angry curse fate

someone staunches
the ****** words,
the ****** tenants
of the boastful remnants
cry out

beaten you
in every way
as long as chest beats
and tip of tongue
coexist,

I am more than whole
I am undefeated,
nor is ended silence,  a white flag of surrender,
my words live on...
written in 2014
Eriko Apr 2016
The forerunner, the front runner
Ringed titanium hair luminescent
In the pearly shiver orb
The moon staked within bright sight

Jittery glances shadowed underneath
The emerald staunches of a forgotten city
Life and plants retaking what's lost
And runner descends, silent and stern

The silent tickle of cool rain
Casting hazy mists above the horizon
The city empty and blind
Without life of those of eyes

Alone he walks through the rubble and rain
Fair hair an alien hue in the green rubble
Picking his synthetic organs and conscious
Fixated by the growth and looming strife

Blurring the lines, collapsing the bridge
Returning to the methods of another drone
Yet still silently he walks in the gloom
A synthetic heart, a drone that can conjure tears
Megan Sherman Feb 2021
I've felt a Pleasure mystics know
Consciousness of God
Enlightenment beaming to and fro
Its wisdom I applaud

The holy power, of the Lord
Cast me fit to receive
Visions of eternal realms
In which my soul's reprieve

Heaven salute me with angel song
Blessed my calloused mind
My soul riot in the throng
Of Love, activity refined

I saw the cosmos - an elegant dance
Of celestial bodies pure
Enamored of the heavenly romance
Irresistible to adore

The horror of my earthly woes
Dissolved on Heaven's sound
A beatitude only innocence knows
That staunches mortal wound

Like trees, all souls bend to the light
And harbor deepest roots
Angels guide them in their flight
In heavenly cahoots

— The End —