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Morning and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpeck'd cherries,
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheek'd peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries;--
All ripe together
In summer weather,--
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy:
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye;
Come buy, come buy.-"

               Evening by evening
Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bow'd her head to hear,
Lizzie veil'd her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger tips.
"Lie close,-" Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head:
"We must not look at goblin men,
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?-"
"Come buy,-" call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.

"Oh,-" cried Lizzie, "Laura, Laura,
You should not peep at goblin men.-"
Lizzie cover'd up her eyes,
Cover'd close lest they should look;
Laura rear'd her glossy head,
And whisper'd like the restless brook:
"Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie,
Down the glen ***** little men.
One hauls a basket,
One bears a plate,
One lugs a golden dish
Of many pounds weight.
How fair the vine must grow
Whose grapes are so luscious;
How warm the wind must blow
Through those fruit bushes.-"
"No,-" said Lizzie, "No, no, no;
Their offers should not charm us,
Their evil gifts would harm us.-"
She ****** a dimpled finger
In each ear, shut eyes and ran:
Curious Laura chose to linger
Wondering at each merchant man.
One whisk'd a tail,
One *****'d at a rat's pace,
One crawl'd like a snail,
One like a wombat prowl'd obtuse and furry,
One like a ratel tumbled hurry skurry.
She heard a voice like voice of doves
Cooing all together:
They sounded kind and full of loves
In the pleasant weather.

               Laura stretch'd her gleaming neck
Like a rush-imbedded swan,
Like a lily from the beck,
Like a moonlit poplar branch,
When its last restraint is gone.

               Backwards up the mossy glen
Turn'd and troop'd the goblin men,
With their shrill repeated cry,
"Come buy, come buy.-"
When they reach'd where Laura was
They stood stock still upon the moss,
Leering at each other,
Brother with queer brother;
Signalling each other,
Brother with sly brother.
One set his basket down,
One began to weave a crown
Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown
(Men sell not such in any town);
One heav'd the golden weight
Of dish and fruit to offer her:
"Come buy, come buy,-" was still their cry.
Laura stared but did not stir,
Long'd but had no money:
The whisk-tail'd merchant bade her taste
In tones as smooth as honey,
The cat-faced purr'd,
The rat-faced spoke a word
Of welcome, and the snail-paced even was heard;
Cried "Pretty Goblin-" still for "Pretty Polly;-"--
One whistled like a bird.

               But sweet-tooth Laura spoke in haste:
"Good folk, I have no coin;
To take were to purloin:
I have no copper in my purse,
I have no silver either,
And all my gold is on the furze
That shakes in windy weather
Above the rusty heather.-"
"You have much gold upon your head,-"
They answer'd all together:
"Buy from us with a golden curl.-"
She clipp'd a precious golden lock,
She dropp'd a tear more rare than pearl,
Then ****'d their fruit globes fair or red:
Sweeter than honey from the rock,
Stronger than man-rejoicing wine,
Clearer than water flow'd that juice;
She never tasted such before,
How should it cloy with length of use?
She ****'d and ****'d and ****'d the more
Fruits which that unknown orchard bore;
She ****'d until her lips were sore;
Then flung the emptied rinds away
But gather'd up one kernel stone,
And knew not was it night or day
As she turn'd home alone.

               Lizzie met her at the gate
Full of wise upbraidings:
"Dear, you should not stay so late,
Twilight is not good for maidens;
Should not loiter in the glen
In the haunts of goblin men.
Do you not remember Jeanie,
How she met them in the moonlight,
Took their gifts both choice and many,
Ate their fruits and wore their flowers
Pluck'd from bowers
Where summer ripens at all hours?
But ever in the noonlight
She pined and pined away;
Sought them by night and day,
Found them no more, but dwindled and grew grey;
Then fell with the first snow,
While to this day no grass will grow
Where she lies low:
I planted daisies there a year ago
That never blow.
You should not loiter so.-"
"Nay, hush,-" said Laura:
"Nay, hush, my sister:
I ate and ate my fill,
Yet my mouth waters still;
To-morrow night I will
Buy more;-" and kiss'd her:
"Have done with sorrow;
I'll bring you plums to-morrow
Fresh on their mother twigs,
Cherries worth getting;
You cannot think what figs
My teeth have met in,
What melons icy-cold
Piled on a dish of gold
Too huge for me to hold,
What peaches with a velvet nap,
Pellucid grapes without one seed:
Odorous indeed must be the mead
Whereon they grow, and pure the wave they drink
With lilies at the brink,
And sugar-sweet their sap.-"

               Golden head by golden head,
Like two pigeons in one nest
Folded in each other's wings,
They lay down in their curtain'd bed:
Like two blossoms on one stem,
Like two flakes of new-fall'n snow,
Like two wands of ivory
Tipp'd with gold for awful kings.
Moon and stars gaz'd in at them,
Wind sang to them lullaby,
Not a bat flapp'd to and fro
Round their rest:
Cheek to cheek and breast to breast
Lock'd together in one nest.

               Early in the morning
When the first **** crow'd his warning,
Neat like bees, as sweet and busy,
Laura rose with Lizzie:
Fetch'd in honey, milk'd the cows,
Air'd and set to rights the house,
Kneaded cakes of whitest wheat,
Cakes for dainty mouths to eat,
Next churn'd butter, whipp'd up cream,
Fed their poultry, sat and sew'd;
Talk'd as modest maidens should:
Lizzie with an open heart,
Laura in an absent dream,
One content, one sick in part;
One warbling for the mere bright day's delight,
One longing for the night.

               At length slow evening came:
They went with pitchers to the reedy brook;
Lizzie most placid in her look,
Laura most like a leaping flame.
They drew the gurgling water from its deep;
Lizzie pluck'd purple and rich golden flags,
Then turning homeward said: "The sunset flushes
Those furthest loftiest crags;
Come, Laura, not another maiden lags.
No wilful squirrel wags,
The beasts and birds are fast asleep.-"
But Laura loiter'd still among the rushes
And said the bank was steep.

               And said the hour was early still
The dew not fall'n, the wind not chill;
Listening ever, but not catching
The customary cry,
"Come buy, come buy,-"
With its iterated jingle
Of sugar-baited words:
Not for all her watching
Once discerning even one goblin
Racing, whisking, tumbling, hobbling;
Let alone the herds
That used to ***** along the glen,
In groups or single,
Of brisk fruit-merchant men.

               Till Lizzie urged, "O Laura, come;
I hear the fruit-call but I dare not look:
You should not loiter longer at this brook:
Come with me home.
The stars rise, the moon bends her arc,
Each glowworm winks her spark,
Let us get home before the night grows dark:
For clouds may gather
Though this is summer weather,
Put out the lights and drench us through;
Then if we lost our way what should we do?-"

               Laura turn'd cold as stone
To find her sister heard that cry alone,
That goblin cry,
"Come buy our fruits, come buy.-"
Must she then buy no more such dainty fruit?
Must she no more such succous pasture find,
Gone deaf and blind?
Her tree of life droop'd from the root:
She said not one word in her heart's sore ache;
But peering thro' the dimness, nought discerning,
Trudg'd home, her pitcher dripping all the way;
So crept to bed, and lay
Silent till Lizzie slept;
Then sat up in a passionate yearning,
And gnash'd her teeth for baulk'd desire, and wept
As if her heart would break.

               Day after day, night after night,
Laura kept watch in vain
In sullen silence of exceeding pain.
She never caught again the goblin cry:
"Come buy, come buy;-"--
She never spied the goblin men
Hawking their fruits along the glen:
But when the noon wax'd bright
Her hair grew thin and grey;
She dwindled, as the fair full moon doth turn
To swift decay and burn
Her fire away.

               One day remembering her kernel-stone
She set it by a wall that faced the south;
Dew'd it with tears, hoped for a root,
Watch'd for a waxing shoot,
It never saw the sun,
It never felt the trickling moisture run:
While with sunk eyes and faded mouth
She dream'd of melons, as a traveller sees
False waves in desert drouth
With shade of leaf-crown'd trees,
And burns the thirstier in the sandful breeze.

               She no more swept the house,
Tended the fowls or cows,
Fetch'd honey, kneaded cakes of wheat,
Brought water from the brook:
But sat down listless in the chimney-nook

               Tender Lizzie could not bear
To watch her sister's cankerous care
Yet not to share.
She night and morning
Caught the goblins' cry:
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy;-"--
Beside the brook, along the glen,
She heard the ***** of goblin men,
The yoke and stir
Poor Laura could not hear;
Long'd to buy fruit to comfort her,
But fear'd to pay too dear.
Who should have been a bride;
But who for joys brides hope to have
Fell sick and died
In her gay prime,
In earliest winter time
With the first glazing rime,
With the first snow-fall of crisp winter time.

               Till Laura dwindling
Seem'd knocking at Death's door:
Then Lizzie weigh'd no more
Better and worse;
But put a silver penny in her purse,
Kiss'd Laura, cross'd the heath with clumps of furze.
At twilight, halted by the brook:
And for the first time in her life
Began to listen and look.

               Laugh'd every goblin
When they spied her peeping:
Came towards her hobbling,
Flying, running, leaping,
Puffing and blowing,
Chuckling, clapping, crowing,
Clucking and gobbling,
Mopping and mowing,
Full of airs and graces,
Pulling wry faces,
Demure grimaces,
Cat-like and rat-like,
Ratel- and wombat-like,
Snail-paced in a hurry,
Parrot-voiced and whistler,
Helter skelter, hurry skurry,
Chattering like magpies,
Fluttering like pigeons,
Gliding like fishes,--
Hugg'd her and kiss'd her:
Squeez'd and caress'd her:
Stretch'd up their dishes,
Panniers, and plates:
"Look at our apples
Russet and dun,
Bob at our cherries,
Bite at our peaches,
Citrons and dates,
Grapes for the asking,
Pears red with basking
Out in the sun,
Plums on their twigs;
Pluck them and **** them,
Pomegranates, figs.-"--

               "Good folk,-" said Lizzie,
Mindful of Jeanie:
"Give me much and many: --
Held out her apron,
Toss'd them her penny.
"Nay, take a seat with us,
Honour and eat with us,-"
They answer'd grinning:
"Our feast is but beginning.
Night yet is early,
Warm and dew-pearly,
Wakeful and starry:
Such fruits as these
No man can carry:
Half their bloom would fly,
Half their dew would dry,
Half their flavour would pass by.
Sit down and feast with us,
Be welcome guest with us,
Cheer you and rest with us.-"--
"Thank you,-" said Lizzie: "But one waits
So without further parleying,
If you will not sell me any
Of your fruits though much and many,
Give me back my silver penny
I toss'd you for a fee.-"--
They began to scratch their pates,
No longer wagging, purring,
But visibly demurring,
Grunting and snarling.
One call'd her proud,
Cross-grain'd, uncivil;
Their tones wax'd loud,
Their looks were evil.
Lashing their tails
Elbow'd and jostled her,
Claw'd with their nails,
Barking, mewing, hissing, mocking,
Tore her gown and soil'd her stocking,
Twitch'd her hair out by the roots,
Stamp'd upon her tender feet,
Held her hands and squeez'd their fruits
Against her mouth to make her eat.

               White and golden Lizzie stood,
Like a lily in a flood,--
Like a rock of blue-vein'd stone
Lash'd by tides obstreperously,--
In a hoary roaring sea,
Sending up a golden fire,--
Like a fruit-crown'd orange-tree
White with blossoms honey-sweet
Sore beset by wasp and bee,--
Like a royal ****** town
Topp'd with gilded dome and spire
Close beleaguer'd by a fleet
Mad to tug her standard down.

               One may lead a horse to water,
Twenty cannot make him drink.
Though the goblins cuff'd and caught her,
Bullied and besought her,
Scratch'd her, pinch'd her black as ink,
Kick'd and knock'd her,
Maul'd and mock'd her,
Lizzie utter'd not a word;
Would not open lip from lip
Lest they should cram a mouthful in:
But laugh'd in heart to feel the drip
Of juice that syrupp'd all her face,
And lodg'd in dimples of her chin,
And streak'd her neck which quaked like curd.
At last the evil people,
Worn out by her resistance,
Flung back her penny, kick'd their fruit
Along whichever road they took,
Not leaving root or stone or shoot;
Some writh'd into the ground,
Some ***'d into the brook
With ring and ripple,
Some scudded on the gale without a sound,
Some vanish'd in the distance.

               In a smart, ache, tingle,
Lizzie went her way;
Knew not was it night or day;
Sprang up the bank, tore thro' the furze,
Threaded copse and ******,
And heard her penny jingle
Bouncing in her purse,--
Its bounce was music to her ear.
She ran and ran
As if she fear'd some goblin man
Dogg'd her with gibe or curse
Or something worse:
But not one goblin scurried after,
Nor was she *****'d by fear;
The kind heart made her windy-paced
That urged her home quite out of breath with haste
And inward laughter.

               She cried, "Laura,-" up the garden,
"Did you miss me?
Come and kiss me.
Never mind my bruises,
Hug me, kiss me, **** my juices
Squeez'd from goblin fruits for you,
Goblin pulp and goblin dew.
Eat me, drink me, love me;
Laura, make much of me;
For your sake I have braved the glen
And had to do with goblin merchant men.-"

               Laura started from her chair,
Flung her arms up in the air,
Clutch'd her hair:
"Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tasted
For my sake the fruit forbidden?
Must your light like mine be hidden,
Your young life like mine be wasted,
Undone in mine undoing,
And ruin'd in my ruin,
Thirsty, canker'd, goblin-ridden?-"--
She clung about her sister,
Kiss'd and kiss'd and kiss'd her:
Tears once again
Refresh'd her shrunken eyes,
Dropping like rain
After long sultry drouth;
Shaking with aguish fear, and pain,
She kiss'd and kiss'd her with a hungry mouth.

     &nb
Mohd Arshad Sep 2014
Flow of thy footfalls, in the sweltry sands,
headlong haste, the current of a swift,
on thy gargatuan back thou tarry
magnitude of goods and massive stones.
how humps writh, with food in,
and steps, steady, without fodder,
head on for many months and
the throat, smooth and sleek, calls for
no water for upmteenth days.
thy slastic neck slides to the ground
and like the hood of the snake stands,
how holds man's heads, taken apart,
the soldier, the warrior, the king of the desert,
what a masterpiece of God's art!
Notes (optional)
All through my head
Whilst i writh in bed
I was more comfortable
Back when
We would start fires
Lay in lie
Smoke forts misfortune
Charred torched remains
Smoldering
Sachii Oct 2017
You stare with amazement
As my heart writh & quiver at your feet
I point a shaking finger at it
While i continued to bleed

I saw tears gathering in your eyes
But you were hasty to turn your back to me
To wipe them away
Though im weak, i saw it all

You turn your head over your shoulder
To have a one last glance
When you left me on my knees
The burdened heart which lost its nourishment,
Seeked its peace
SN Mrax Jun 2012
in
I co
me
in li
ke
a
se
rpent:
clos
ed
tight
and
long,
writh
ing
imp
er
cep
tib
ly
wi
th
in
my
se
l
f
AZahorcak Aug 2014
keep coming, keep going
you're holding me back
while you complain to your friends
about all he lacks

can't you see that your savage?
though you may call it 'normal'
presents and praise
are not arousal

let friendship surpass interest
and extend outward with growth
your life is not a picture,
it is a sacred oath:

fear my love,
no- it doesn't lack feeling
but it comes with a treasure
a single meaning.

Do not fear
the contamination
of your captivity-
survive the encompassing mind.

Or writh
and reel
that you cannot feel-
cannot keep up with me

Turn the wheel
like me

******* and the glasses
Of wine. Wasting their *******
time. In what they thought
was Love.
JoJo Nguyen Apr 2015
Stir straw my gripe berries of writh
while
Tae do drinks wedges for tumorrow.

do, Do, definkate times 5
else
numb, burrrr, 2 it's cold drop whate
doo doo merrilies.
Clary Morgan Jan 2016
Strangers parade all around in their undying masks of hidden souls carrying on with their secret souls, not seeing who any one can really be.
They move so shadowed their figures distort in bluring mimic of blind movements, so cloaked and over bearing the shadows presense, they blend to be one emassive culmenation of hidden secrets the world hides them before they themselves can.
The distortions, so blindly obscure by their unrational wits, writh as their unbearablely clandestine futures draw closer to an edged madness as their undying silence takes over.
Their black fates are met with a silent nothing which destroys all fact, all fiction, and all reality.
If anyone gets the title and why it makes sense I comend you
Jericho Urbano Dec 2016
Take me
To the moon
Where I can
Wallow in pain
As I
Contemplate
My solidarity;

Take me
To the sun
Where I
Can writh
In pain
As I watch
The world
Revolve around me
For once;

Take me
To the galaxy
As I breathe
My final breath
I'll be smiling
Knowing
I
Was part
Of your sweetest
Surrender.
William de klerk Sep 2019
Isolation slowly starves away a man's mind
gnawing away at what he holds dear
the flooding room fills as he gasps for breath
praying for a pocket deeper down
he sinks to the darker depths
In his chest sharp blades writh like snakes
his heart beat thuds like a heavy hammer
relentlessly ringing in his ears
pulsating pressure like a serpents coil
crushes cracks and breaks his brittle body
only the pain prevents him from drifting
a hazy blur blackens his vision
as silently his screams bubble away
In one more breath his futile fight
finishes.

When suddenly a deathly peace penetrates
like the shock after a plunge into an icy pool
as a feint flicker of light shines
he drifts towards his final hope
I tried to write this with a dual ending, the light he sees is either the surface as he re-emerges or the light before death.
B E Cults Feb 2021
but what of the jilted lovers
cutting off their hair in the
proverbial backyard?

the dreamers learning to speak
through pillaged nights
like cheap tin cans on pink
and white twine?

are they with me in my
brittle bones while tomorrow
writhes in our collective
unconscious?

I writh despite the answer.

I'm not honest,
obnoxious.
I'm progress made for the sake
of having to say "stop this".
I'm boxes with the name of God
scribbled in blockscript on top of them.
I'm carpe diem,
unresponsive.
I'm learning dark age surmation while awaiting the moment the darkness has faded.

I'm a ******* art show all by my self.
I'm in hell.
I'm the hardship.
Harvest losses.
...only a part of it all is ever seen though.
JKim Mar 2020
In desolate places, I leave all my faces.
The masks and disguises, construction of lies.
The spotlight of fear, my delight and dimise.

As curtains close, applause fades,
alone with the shadows of self that pervades.
Ghosts of the past, that once were true.
Withered and lost, in my daily debut.
To please and to pleasure, a pointless measure.
Unable to escape, I'm asleep but awake.

I wriggle and writh in my own divide,
tearing apart from depths deep inside.
Empty halls and vacant seats,
angels and demons fatefully meet.

Crimson flows as roses fall,
the closing act as curtains call.
My death is rebirth, the dove and the crow,
a final bow at the end of my show.
Drinks Heron Me
(a stout rendition of Captain Oh Captain)

Mine eyes espy the glory
     per ending of another work day doth
     beckon Baily's Irish Creme
with Absolut certainty that
     Fireball named Brandy
     the Patron Crown
     Royal abets dream
quest proof positive

     to expunge stressful Boss
     distilling cooked Grey Goose gleam
with nary blue clue how  
     ceaseless toiling efforts
     play within lager corporation scheme
assigning exemplary
     skills and talents within
appears ******* up losing team.

No exit out this grueling
     twenty first century
     rat trap where by Scotch
     chief en gin air
except to drawn displeasure
     and wallow in sorrows
     downing *****, or
     house brand beer

despite drunken state
     erodes axons and synapses
     snap like chattering
     false teeth of broken gear
quickly cause tenuous
     grasp on queasy reality,
     sanity, and tenacity
     rent asunder and tear

Now that work day done
     at long last, not a moment
     to tally date with
     Jack Daniels to delay
this linkedin conga line wants
     to wash away sounds
     of barked orders *** bling – may
king me insides

     writh with anger
as if type cast in diabolical
     formidable, horrible play
whereby each active
     scene increases assistance
     for Johnny Walker to glide and sashay.
Argh, how those last remaining
     minutes to escape hubbub

     ticks away at pace of a snail
to these myopic eyes,
     which suspect manager
     surreptitiously turns
     back clock hands male
lush hiss lee deliberately
     toys with sanity, thus seek counsel
     from Jimmy Beam without fail

when super tramping head honcho
will cease cheap trick
     renouncing cruel act ale
ling me without sh malt s, Hops,
     skips and jumps inebriation
     welcomes me rendering taps
receding thoughts being bound, cramped,
     and emulsified in

     dark cubicle Schnapps
as if invisible taut cord
     tears into virtual tatters
     and life of Wry lee loosed *****
from shredded material trailing
     a tail that rivals tales of Aesop's.
That ambler liquid
     of gods soothes palate and tongue

     helps tubby dee
     sensitized comfortably numb
feeling settles within
     thine body electric
     dulling the senses with
     heavy eye lids plum
met to close shut tight
     riding wave of ecstasy,

     reflecting about dad and late mum,
though come morrow, a hang over
     with ascension sensation
     akin to Günter Grass
     loud banging his tin drum.
Upon rising sober with total amnesia
     sans pandering  buffoon
realizing fallacious gimcrackery,
    
while ensconced fermented cocoon
***** hound tippled top dog
     quickly reminded yours truly
     how I goon
off the rails, perhaps, cuz of living
     within a trackless caboose
     sized wife named June.
********
Poet script:

An out of character bon mot
to defy anyone trying
     to stereotype my verbose thick plot
poetic dry (humor) rot.

The Smoker You Drink, the Player You Get
came to this teetotaler, racking his noggin you bet.
Hence...I brought you Harvey off the wall banger...

“In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is Freedom,
in water there is bacteria."
Descovia Jan 2020
So what are we
Shedding this blood for?

So quick to resort to violence
and gore....

Burning our wildlife away
Do I say less or more?
Fighting an endless war
To build a wall
When our hearts are sore?
When bridges connect to open doors!

I am trying to bring the magic out of us. Like I am Dumbledore

Honestly, f* you fakers
It can go either or....
Try to get one on us
I will even the score

F*
your president.
He is irrelevant.
I am in my element.
My son and I are heaven sent.
Forgive my incompetence
In this fight we will remain dominant!
Climbing "mountains of success"
You will never see us
At the bottom of it!!

Faded my eyes filled with red.
From all the lives that were shed.
So hard to rest my soul with
All these questions roaming my head.
Black. White. Brown. Yellow. Blue. All lives matter! We all BLEED red!!! It was well PROVEN, before it was even said!

Why can't we live for Peace instead?
Is the cost of living too much, to spread a piece of bread?
Easier to fill another heart, before our stomachs writh dread!
I'll be ******, if another brother of mine ends up dead!
Mr Not our nation leader...I
Pray that you come from your high
Because you are putting us low!
Reap what you sow. Fighting for power
You're blind by arrogance and out of control!
#damntrump #restoreaustrillia

— The End —