03-31-2016, 06:14 AM
The Honey Mimics.
I am a boy, my Momma called my name Abel, my wagon’s got a broke squeaky wheel.
She sang with the spade; there in her belly he laid, bouncing behind heel to toe, toe to heel.
Beneath us roll weaved, the gripped fingers of trees, as we bound down our found booney path.
There asleep in the stone, A gift awaiting for home, shards of machine born to ages long past.
Whence found where they lay, put a cog to my spade and released them from such needless timbre.
Though they may crave for the cradle, I admit not betrayal, for anew comes their flame unto ember.
O pedestal troven.
“Such relics for trade?” I yelled to the spaed, “Worth what girth of that bounty we lack!
To get up you, old friend, let us walk tall again.” But the spaed gone and said nothin’ back.
In their travelling throne my tired relics did sit, and sang too with that wagon in chorus.
Thence from a shadowy grove, came eyes much a-lit, peering prisma from the shallows of forest.
Trip tailed babes of a fox stood steadfast and watched; their furs pearly, twin the peak’s crown of snow.
Each locked in a gaze on myself and my spade, donned in headdress for husbands of doe.
Gold, sapphire and ruby, eyes admired with beauty, heatly considering my every move,
Becomed me a martyr, for my resolve could not barter, to cease what I knew I would do.
Hush and unspoken.
That moment reigned still on its kingdom until those thrice babes of a fox turned and fled,
Not for fear of the hunt, when returned was the runt, bearing summons to go where they led.
Thus my mind grew to wonder, overwhelmed me a hunger to fathom the ends of their chase.
Woe my will to restrain came flourished un-tame, on mine legs a duet to their pace.
I flew kittened.
As the river does run through the woodland like tongues past rowed teeth in the delta of song,
Such I took to the soil as if settled, kettled and boiled, cook to wither if I linger too long.
Where abreast to my course, with diminished remorse my focus dwelt passless in time;
For the measure I followed came forgotten and swallowed as thrence babes of a fox strayed from mine.
Unto Paradise.
Thus I woke fighting trance, in untold virgin lands with a fist leavened tight bearing spade;
And in time when reflected that moment neglected to parade me of mine wielding portray.
Alas there right before me, bathed in known hindsight of glory, lay a scene only fitting in tome,
A crest, pool and runnel, with horned mount blush of tunnel, among fern-vines in hoops stood of stone.
In the midst of the glade rose a shrine long decayed, a rest in that riot of light;
Where atop grew a giver, bred arching winds in its quiver, bearing fruit of good taste, red and ripe.
Woe temptations unfold; for my comfort did scold, and beget to me mine null of belong.
Whence that flood rung with doubt, did nothing but shout, mute her shores, hence their brute, remained strong.
Eons rude fastened.
Seen hilt in the trunk, as sworn the clergy a monk, ‘tween halos of wood where it lane;
A splinterless throttle, etched, weathered, trapped, bottled, frozen fire, stellar feathered in mane.
Enticed of thine grove my sight anchored in troves to the axe long since bit in the bark.
A master of ease, I bade siren thus pleased to bear witness whims guiltless his lark.
Grown bitter and battened.
That arbor lived slept, in stone, anchored and wept, wishing salvage from splinter designed.
I stepped in approach to the sanctum encroached, un-wit hewn were mine actions of crime.
Thus aft to my nearing that ached olden yearling, there at hand was I lust to take arms.
Thence delivered from snare, unpolished yet fair, blesséd hatchet I vowed free from harm.
Soon vacant of warning a gale came on storming and widened mine eyes to mine errors,
Come before comprehended my elation suspended as I recoiled from that temple in terror.
With anguish.
I had arrived on the borders of that now lonesome orchard when I saw myself blind of the spade.
There in bowel of rune, from whence I had strewn, my trowel marooned did remain.
I moved to retire from such blunder transpired when my view met with incarnate fear:
Two eyes burning amber that slid without scamper, from the tangles erupt locked in leer.
Behemoth enticed.
Seen parallel to the lake, a limbless cold drake. Worm of stomach, ribcage rose to spine;
Abount spilling in splendour, showing teeth repremander, among fanned frills, unseen shoulders, divine.
Wrapped in ivory scales surmount a rattled whip tail woe she slithered with intimate ease,
Ne’er veering her vision, with suspicious decision she came halt at the wound of the tree.
Maintaining her stare, grown still was the air, in basking where perched on herself.
Of the midst twenty rungs: that forked, intent tongue trembled known of mine taken wealth.
Whence looking away it ate up my spade and swallowed calculated in glee,
Thence requested my leave in silence conceived of no charge, nor chase, fight nor flee.
Provoken in yielding.
I made my escape with cowardly haste sought not to warrant our glares ever meet.
Thence bid my defeat to ne’er repeat, whence declared my surrender born meek.
Thus returning campaign marinated my mind and cast that journey the longer.
Thence path I had known, reformed unfit to find, birthed my course less an ends more a wander.
Ado that wagon discovered, though forfeit her brother, t’was given a newfound companion.
Though she now be unsung, to her lost comrade she clung, mum yearning reverse of abandon.
Mine shelter of healing.
Come returned to my bode; depleted, betrothed to the waste of weary body and mind,
Delivered at foots, lump sullied in soots lay the relics whence I set out to find.
Looked upon my old friend, set to walk tall again. Man of bone and iron, tween leather to bind.
Alas mine spade was of him, and I knew it a sin, woe to borrow and thence leave behind.
Like by frost unto lumbers I did rend unto slumber, whence settled before balmy hearth.
I dreamt of that trowel, vestal axe splitting her jowls, whence threats of the serpent come thwart.
Thus plunge unto her belly, refuse her be deadly, and retrieve what of mine she took, cherished.
Thence to conclude my reprise, gouge thine golden eyes, and leave her so blind as to perish.
On mending.
Whence awoke from the floor I roused prayer for thine Lords to pilot mine palms unto skill.
For a tinkering task was upon me at last where triumph bode trust to their will.
Bathing pinions in beck, ridden oil, soil and dreck, come as fit to commit steady service.
Whence fixed and of deck, wrought in back, knee and neck, rigged heavy and ready, though nervous.
Ignition!
From some arcane nameless fuel came sired life in the ghoul, eyes awoke and movement beheld.
At first just a sputter, but thence came another, mere moments before he stood without fell.
Thence agony burgeon, distress was most urgent, for he wailed as in plummet to tomb;
So in feigned panic I leapt upon his arms for protect from a dangerous peril removed.
Came calm was the sputter, when seal gazed there like brothers, he released me from bear of his arm.
I told of our mission, thence the serpent’s perdition, intent to beguile by night unalarmed.
Crusade!
Riding strength of his shoulders, we march on as soldiers un-trodden our path had endured.
Bearing helmet and axe, among schemes for a trap: a snare threshed of hawser and lure.
Whence sight forebode us of dale, came hidden latent in veil, we fashioned an atlas of ruse.
It was splendid and pure, drawn fool proof, as a cure; for livid vengeance in teeming was muse.
A ruse set in waiting.
Come hours tailing twilight, a noose built for its birth-right, contrived for thine purpose at dawn;
But whence day break delivered, trip lingered un-slivered, for company of snake beast came gone.
Approaching with hatchet, contemplating my casket, I brave baited that garden in wait.
Abrupt bloomed from the brambles, she slithered aimless in amble, but ignored otherwise to my fate.
Thus returned to mine greed, I forbade any heed, so ordered my iron pard to entice,
To harvest the fruits from the youngest of shoots, and in loss of success venture twice.
So twice he did prune and in similar swoon, our leviathan charged without chase,
Obtuse came frustration as without beg of salvation a grounded crown from the trunk I would make.
Sung echo un-fading.
A walloping sheath, a decisive blunt cleave, sole a blow to that bole column of knots,
But as boughs broke and snapped in the cascade of collapse, from my plinth unto basin was I knocked.
Thence redeemed from the water, like nursling from daughter, I arose now as bribe in accede.
From furious brackens, an attacking in action, that python produced in stampede.
With lunge writ of legend, twinned speed only from engine, she barraged in volleyed foray;
I took with ambition, as our plot came to fruition; infernal huntress had wane unto prey.
Like the tide coaxed to crest, hoaxed for lust of mine flesh she swam unto ambush seduced.
Seized was the monster! Thence hark to conjure and boast spade among purposeful wound.
Chord and collar.
We strapped her down taut, until in silence she fought, for her vigour was harnessed to boon.
The skies grew bedimmed, as my mind frothed at my chin, and the mist quickly birthed to monsoon.
Wherein hesitation, overwhelmed with elation, her fierce thrashing lived largely unseen.
As stone beneath skin, the spade buttress within, dwelling sought calling and boasten between.
Come to carve an incision, with mine hatchet and vision, thence relinquish from cage O mine prize;
But not with precision, for it was my fated decision, to lacerate, wait and watch empress die.
A hack unto husk, formed an unwelcome tusk, but brandished seeped helve from the beast,
Gripping at tiller thence yanked, come bewildered, for I’d driven that demon released.
Thus fortune betrayed!
For it was not stock of mine spade but a fang of ribcage t’was ripped, thus had broke from her scales.
She wretched and she writhed, thence wrecked from her ties, and lashed at mine self with her tail.
As hammer upon glass, that rudder ruled shattered and flat, my body, a slave to its aim.
Thus hence akin to our actions, irony had veered factions and again waned hunter to prey.
Prone Swanling Became.
Thence beheld from below, defenseless, exposed; I faltered to balk as she grew,
An advance lacking heed for my pard’s tangible plead to arrest retribution pursued.
A mythical lurch obliged to quenching blood thirst, that cobra onslaught toward feed.
A fortuitous strafe, a countered escape, in spontaneous intervention of need.
She gnarled the ground, snarled a hideous sound, thence revealed her glare unto mine.
In such meager breadth, shone my reflection to depths within her infernos of eyes.
To hurl without aim.
I swung at the titan, and plunged into her frightened, the hatchet I plundered thence prior;
Whence stuck in her neck, blessed weapon she wept, for now siphon of claret proved dire.
To forsook any linger, as a bolt flung from trigger, mine instinct mandated retreat;
With tenacity unrivaled and swiftness unbridled that fear had waxed unto steed.
Thus fled.
Though harbour uncharted, its discovery thwarted, still alone was I farther in faring.
Panicked in pace, a horror of haste, whilst unbeknownst remained was mine bearing.
Atop lopsided earth, came adrift was my perch, thus in that frantic sequester I stumbled.
Becomed me a trundling as descending in tumbling, neared to threatening tangles of trouble.
To Blossom Spicated.
Woe to touch thorn of rose by any other mode, she would still come to prickle as sharp.
Alas not traditional nettle for blue-black was the petal, colossal fronds spangled motley & dark.
T’was malicious, this thicket, venomous & wicked, possessed dangerous beauty grown lush;
In the midst of its coil, waited escape, costly toil, upon spine in thine side was I thrust.
Forlorn siren of companion, crying out from my canyon, to find and deliver from labyrinth.
But thence barb took effect, as from grove hindered I crept, mind warbled, as if simmered in absinthe.
Vanished was I.
Rolled onto my back, unwit to time that had passed, I unfolded mine eyes to the heavens;
Found myself not secluded, for from a branch came protruded, what I thought a mirage sired of venom.
An alabaster sculpture in the form of a vulture watched balanced on branches above.
As my vision returned I expeditiously learned, t’was no illusion, but genuine buzzard thereof.
In heavy silence mine gaze left his cardinal glower unphased, as a stalemate between came to be,
From his pedestal flown, to mine grounded throne, his approach seeped in warrant of flee.
For in fearing the worst, over me boiling came thirst to ask that raptor of mine ward.
I knew it to be odd at foreboding fowl to prod, thus for answers I turned to mine Lords.
A hymn from inside.
In prayer to myself I asked divine help, “Come to make me of his company imbued!”
Thence came a reply, not from above but beside, whence quoth the vulture “look at you.”
“Respite me, O death,” I plead under my breath, “T’was a sin to disrupt what was made.
This quill in my belly, I bid as unwelcome as deadly and vow to emend all blunders in exchange!”
Mine vision still blurred as mine thoughts remained slurred, and the world grew a deeper dark hue.
“If this be mine ends, I wish been forgiven offence”, quoth the vulture, again, “look at you.”
Thus Result.
Blind came my view, unable to move, mine spirit and mine will withered static;
Thence abreast to my death, was a brilliance born blessed and a warmth, inviting and vatic.
T’was the touch of a mother upon the skin of her brother, I was lifted, and glimpsed mine redeemer.
Wearing the whitest of shall, sapphire eyes in her skull, beneath antlered crown in grandiose demeanour.
“Go lay him in tarn & bathe him of harm at the foot of mine altar in terrace.
Thence once he is washed, take this cider of wasp, and rub at his wound or he’ll perish.”
From the fold of her gown she bestowed to my nestle, a gift wrapped in calico weave.
No more than a pound, adored tonic in vessel, a potion sworn veer of bereave.
As she spoke to my cradle, I struggled, unable, to voice much more than a murmur.
Thence my ward leapt to hasten, restored us from basin, came flew through that morass with fervor.
Wary trance Mandated.
Mine cognizance broken, mine waking revoken, I slipped past the comfort of slumber.
I dreamt of a mountain, its silver roads and their fountains, that by their own brethren, were plundered.
I was roused by the waters and a heinous dull holler, thence awoke lone and partly submersed;
Hark, that howl was of me, whence realized where I be, and damned it a curious curse.
O The site of the sin, becometh us kin, woe that pearl serpent still spread limp in abandon.
With the greatest remorse I gazed at the source of her agony, now mine, twinned in tandem.
Clasping my thorn, I tore it from bourn, and welcomed his residual torture.
For I bound to her, whence to ripen a cure, and banish the fruits of mine horror.
Repenting in Fever.
Whence returned was my pard, bearing balm for mine scar, the syrup of drone hovelled hive;
Thence smearing the treacle, he forbade rose be lethal, made safeguard mine health as to thrive.
Ordered to retrieve and return by the eve, my companion sought means to endure;
He was to assemble a bode, for I was to requite what was owed, until return of her weal was sure.
Reparation Unmeager.
I plead for the Gods, “Bid to me revealed, the fount of mine serum blesséd.”
From the wood howled a dog, singing promise of heal, and mine following zealous requested.
Limped to monolith surrounding, unto pure fated founding, an apiary lay waiting and hallowed.
Its swarm proved benign, housed in grail, seething shrine, wine of hornet brewed, yet to be fallowed.
With yield of such effort, I promised us bettered, mended by elixir of flora;
It shone profound tincture, hues unknown in mixture, emitting such apothicous aura.
Be I shaman?
Wrapping honey in twill, meshing our presence in trill, I encroached upon the exhausted lame tail,
From a reliable seat, our flesh came to meet, mine skin given taste of her scales.
The void of her vision peered through the incision she gave upon our decrepit embrace.
Thence advancing in slivers to the root of her hinders, I pined for her relieved of our fates.
There barbed was mine trophy, ridden of honour, unholy, becomed it a blemish obtuse.
A strange revelation gave myself in elation, rasp as virgin was cherished, not use.
I dabbed at her wound, smelt the heat it exhumed, whilst beseeched were mine whispers of calm;
In prayer for true temperance, mine action bore semblance of atonement born hatchet in palm.
Mine Self Shone Anew.
With a sorrowful heave that axe came uncleaved whence last vestige of might sang displayed,
Her furious bearing upon surrenderous erring, I stood banished of bother, self or spade.
The threat met stagnation as she collapsed in prostration, not heeding my unknown intention.
Thence with nectar remaining, I lathered unwaiting, parturition from greed mine abstention.
Thus my regret sang to beckon to mine wielding of weapon; such I cast it afar as rejected.
Accursed was its grace, as too was mine fate woe for it to have ever been collected.
Thus Haven Intrepid.
Carried wherewithal yield, our ward was revealed thus undertook to carpent of dwelling,
As the sun fell surceased, parallel was the peace, for crimson from grove stare bore swelling.
Many moons we remained, each night those eyes flamed at our camp from beyond shored lagoon.
Vigil strong of my queen, they watched as we gleaned, reaping strength of which I had strewn.
Her Fondness Grown Tepid.
Every morrow I woke and with the serpent I spoke as I dressed at those clefts with our honey.
Soon she did rouse, to slither and browse about our garden on days warm, fair and sunny.
We harvested arbor, to feed her that we harbor, brewing pap of fruit mash and molass.
Thence on the fortieth dusk, rose an ominous hush, lulled the trickling riv unto glass.
I waited on guard with cursed hatchet and pard, for I knew that a peril approached,
Alas I hew into resting, left defenseless my nesting, only awoken by the rustling of poach.
Cometh shining from shadow, blood russet of harrow, gawk beamed spilling with impatience of urge;
Thence took to the skies, those mad ruby eyes, and dove much intended to scourge.
Wingéd Beast!
T’was a colossus of owl, screech the zenith of prowl, wielding talons taught eager to slaughter;
It plunged at my venus with terrible keenness, as she bathed unaware in deaf waters.
I shrieked for my goddess, to avoid need of solace, but that ambush was dauntless and held;
In the last of her moments, we locked gaze in atonement, our tumult came genuine quelled.
Abrupt overhead, there flew pouncing in tread, a behemoth of hound fierce and noble,
Pallid in mane, bulwark in aim, that wolf seized our villain immobile.
In turning she growled, beryl eyes burning scowled thence roared with a deafening vigor.
Frozen in fright, I stood drown in plight, unable to answer her rigor.
Immense Rivals!
In brawling wild battle, they scathed and they grappled, a raging struggle in skirmish throughout.
Tooth against talon, both fearless and gallant, they thrust duel on a rampaging route.
Thence the bird waged a fluke, and with a felicitous juke, it clawed at the hide of the mongrel;
Thence barraged at the serpent with war distilled purpose, thwarting escape into jungle.
My taciturn screams reared of silent esteem when in foray with the thunderous hound;
She flanked at the fowl, helmed its maw in her jowls, thence sundered its carcass to ground.
Thence cobra coiled round, and presented me crowned, as the repenter recovered her ails;
The dog heaving heavy, in a pant less than steady, harness revival in the wake of assail.
Hence accrued.
She turned to confront, in her eyes I saw the runt, that first invited mine presence to dale.
“You are the maiden! She saved me when laden, came poisoned by rose thorn impaled.”
She did not voice an answer, but instead produced antlers, attesting mine inkling as true.
“But why a runt if a changer?” Thence she spake “strength is danger.” before strode into wood out of view.
In the Moon’s silver shade laid awake in the braids of my serpents now loving embrace,
I knew it be the last of the nights that had passed whence together in glade undisplaced.
By the morn was I lone with my companion and home, left to tend those saplings that grew;
From the seeds of our time; collected, sublime. What mine old self had timbered; Anew.
So be it.
T’was nearly a year before she appeared, without warning in the fine fog of dawn,
Neither did we voice our awaited rejoice, nor did we move to be moreover withdrawn.
In our company basked, ignoring time as it passed, I gaveth her rib I’d deprived.
Thence offered from wreath she placed at my feet, that damn spade which had us collide.
T’was tied on by its blade to a masked speckled egg, where in kneeling I pondered their worth.
Whence looking again, gone t’was my friend, but not heartsick nor was I willed unto search.
“We here shall remain at your orchard in reign.” said I for pard cometh trailing from shack.
“Who is she I wonder? Should we love her as brothers?” but the spaed gone and said nothin’ back.
Thy Daughter & Thy Darling, Without End.
Yes, you're definitely in the right place!
good to see you posting, i'll do better next time
) and it's all a bit too out of focus, for me. 
