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Michael
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Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California

0 posted 2012-09-10 10:24 PM



A Derwydd's Lament


Across the fey and withered way
Of day, fleeing night's rising...
A tree once stood, for all that's good,
In woods of compromising.

Forest faeries flit on the breeze,
(A tease 'neath stars, surprising);
Circled the tree, ever to be
A wreath of mesmerizing

Luminescence and splendor, hence
The essence was pure magic.
Till, serenely kissed, the morning's mist
So wistfully turned tragic.

For a Derwydd stood there, her palm laid bare
In sharing song and station
With the One Tree all knew to be
The beginning of creation.

Her gentle voice, yielding no choice,
Rejoicing in radiance rendered...
Bringing gallant knight, fresh from the fight,
Alight roots this tree tendered.

Ah, gallant, true; though through and through
She knew his heart was not clean,
'Sang to him still, captivating will,
And gentling his mien.

But as he stood, (as she knew he would),
She could not withhold her touch;
Pulling her hand free from the One Tree,
For the human she now loved as much.

Mystified, as the forest cried,
She sighed as he took 'hold her hand...
And led her away, that fateful day
To play in some far less naive land.

And though love came to him, the same,
A shame was placed upon her...
Her name now a curse in the faeries' verse,
And worse in thought, that man looked on her.

...Man, who came in droves to search the groves,
And strove to find more like her.
...Man, who, like disease, laid waste the trees,
And seized the land, just to spite her...

For stealing the heart of their hero, in part,
Her arts accredited deception –
For loss they'd incur, as he spent life with her,
In the sureness of love and protection.
  
And so, with the weight of the world so great –
The hate for her finally taking toll,
The Derwydd returned, but the lessons learned
Will forever be spurning her soul.

For as she encroached, still feeling reproach
Of both the poachers, and the fey...
Shadow crept, and fed along the soulless bed –
The One Tree being found dead that dark day.

And as her woeful cry near split the sky,
The forest, by her powers, was shaken...
The other trees awoke, on the words she spoke
In spilling grief, that "Man shall die, forsaken!"

Hence, from that day, in their own way,
To say else would be lying...
Ne'er 'gain affright, the woods by night
Delight to feel men dying.

The dark elf was born, along these torn
And shorn fragments of emotion...
While the faeries fled, as it's been said
Even the dead now paid her notion.

And yet, by woe of friend and foe,
We know the story grows darker...
For abandoned and alone, now bedded by bone,
That lone dead tree still served as a marker.

As, ever undaunted, even by forests haunted,
The vaunted hero still sought a reunion...
With the love of his life, with his Derwydd – his wife.
What could be a holier communion?

The echoes were faint, the soft song of a saint
That painted over the darkness...
It was calling her name, past the grief, past the shame –
Past the blame, and past all the starkness.

Her rage turned to tears, as she thought of lost years...
Ultimately, though, fear would implore her.
Her voice caught in throat, (lips mouthing, by rote),
The notice the trees enforced for her.

And so, with her running, the Fates, ever cunning,
Let nothing but misery reach her...
As the mists soon unveiled her hero, impaled,
Song curtailed, and face without feature...

Upon the very tree which had brought life, freely
Till she, that loathsome day, removed hand...
As, for love, all turned dreary, and every living thing eerie
In a forest to be forever damned.

It's there she still sings of the torment life brings,
And the sting of never seeing the sun...
The allure of her voice leaving no man who hears choice...
Rejoice, Derwydd, the vanity's been run!
  
It's there his ghost shows, where nothing now grows,
In throes of desolation, shrilly riven...
And the forest echoes the melancholy and woes
Of those who know love cannot be forgiven.


Michael Anderson

9/05/2012


[This message has been edited by Michael (08-25-2013 07:30 PM).]

© Copyright 2012 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved
Margherita
Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236
Eternity
1 posted 2012-09-12 04:36 AM


What an impressive tale, dear Michael! Thought provoking and so sad. How many indeed have there been who were not forgiven because they choose love? To begin with Jesus ...

Light, light, more light ... we must never stop in our research of it, that means becoming aware of IT.

Incredible linguistic excellence.

Love and light.
Margherita

"Love is the One who masters all things;
I am mastered totally by Love."
(Rumi)

suthern
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Seraphic
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723
Louisiana
2 posted 2012-09-12 10:05 AM


There are times when an article in Reader's Digest is enough... and other times when I want to sink into a novel and let it take me away... which is just a way of saying that length is never an impediment when every word holds my attention. You've told a wonderful, touching tale... and done so with such an exquisite rhyme scheme... Bravo, my friend... bravo!! You and your muse deserve a bow... or two or ten! *S*
Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California
3 posted 2012-09-13 04:44 PM


Margherita, I'm glad you enjoyed the tale.  Love does have a way of persecuting us, but you are right... without the light, and the seeking of it, there would be no story at all here.

Ruth, bigger is better is something we are taught in this society... but if size really does matter, unfortunately, the exact opposite seems to be true with poetry.   I'm a selfish writer, however, and the occasional feeble attempt at a good story, as opposed to just a poem, will always be part of my repertoire, along with little idiosyncrasies like using the welsh word derwydd, instead of the more commonly, watered down version of the word, druid. .. The distinction being the almost sacred devotion held by the former.   I'm glad you enjoyed the story.  

Michael

MARK V SHELDON
Member Elite
since 2001-06-21
Posts 3015
In a corporeal internship...
4 posted 2012-09-17 11:59 PM


Wow, Michael...  Simply:  WOW.  I wish THIS had been required reading back in high school English instead of "William Faulkner"!  I prefer inspiration to trauma, personally...  This is absolutely one for literature.  Seriously.

-MVS

You CAN make a difference, but first you should learn how:
http://educate-yourself.org/intro.shtml

katahdin
Senior Member
since 2010-07-01
Posts 1196
ME. In the Shadow of the Mt.
5 posted 2012-09-18 03:02 AM


Just magical! Enjoyed!
Kat >^..^<

JL
Member Ascendant
since 2004-04-01
Posts 6128
Texas, USA
6 posted 2012-09-18 11:52 AM


"And in throes of desolation, shrilly riven...
The forest only echoes the melancholy and woes
Of those who know love will not be forgiven."

Michale: Ability, quality, awesome, fantabulous, spectacular,
home-run out of the park, you-da-man.
Just a few thoughts that crossed my
mind in the reading...


Enjoyed the story.

JL










Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul,and with all your mind. Love your neighbor as yourself.
Maranatha!

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