Each one holding the other all angles

wondering in circles out of the bog

Each one minding not wanting for more tangles

Not wanting for headed oil slidden as  log.

Now though these friends made to lie in green

no more wanting for rocks and horse and berried table

Now left to beaking vulture and scorning mien

no more cupping still waters beside tripping cable.

Then did friends cross arm and leg and ear and nose  to rely

For succour of heart to bide and hide the eyed rod

Then did cloak with healing stripes of myrrh thereby

For resting in bone desired spilling guarding nod.

Soon GreyHorse circled the friends with staffing care

no more forsaking close treading besiding still

Soon sighing and byeing in sleep to tear

no more dreams from each heart softing in thrill.

Now shadows of old hopen smoothed the heads

for soon shadows trading in want would crawl

Now curls of legs and toes and twigs in beds

for rest in folding holding unseamed shawl.

GreyHorse smelled the dawn of day untold

when menlings and swordlings would cut the cords

GreyHorse knew had once led in peace unsold

when yet lambs by ewes were made lords.

Dreaming these friends moldered the paths

that morn crouching to show

Dreaming in flops so snuffled the olden lathes

that shape the morrow in glow.

Stumbling and stretching and blowing and yawning

new day to greet in mind of old vow

Scratching and squinting unseamed dawning

new way to scratch ever East ever bent in bow.

Leaning on shadows molded to hold

now toe, now hoof, now claw, now shoe

Leaning on shadows shaping to scold

now fallen, now risen, now holden to rue.

Leaning on shadows bearing arm and staff and shield

against side of GreyHorse straining to lighten

Leaning hearts in the rising light enflaming field

against side of GreyHorse stretchin’ not bitin’

Leaning grass blades no meal for to yield

against belly of GreyHorse sworn for sightin’

Leaning hills in sands no stories dealed

against hoof and tail and flank of GreyHorse bestridin’

     On and on did dear friends toil ever East ever least ever beast never feast ever foil gainst broken tale of menlings fore fruited turn, down to the age yet to come.


%d bloggers like this: