| |
Second Quiz With Even Broader Hints For Blind Poets
Second Quiz with even broader hints for blind poets
The Princess Anna stood
arms half-akimbo
at the scrawny edge of the receding bank
her Polonaise pollarded down
to her exposed tarsus heels
A wilting comb of fern and shrivelled grass
still clinging to her rump
mud trailing in crusty clumps around the soles
half exposed at the base of the trunk
A soft curling gust about her waist
shook the panticles of her bells
light translucent purple corolla
peeling tinnitus at her lobes
out of the gathering Siberian clouds
sounded like her father calling:
“ Pavlovnia! Pavlovnia! My Darling!
Shake! Shake! Your ample locks!
And let your capsicles pop and drop
Your myriad minute pods
Wafting towards Tsarist towers
Tintinnabulating on troikas and travois! ”
“ Hélas! Hélas! My Royal Pa!
I’m wed for life to nether water-logged land
See how the wind furrows the leathery waters
Licking and tickling my bared soles!
Here with one sawn shoulder and one twisted arm
My hip sags with each dastardly axe-raised slap
Leaning onto the other talus’s side
They say it’s for my own own good
My head was severed at the start
My heart-shaped tresses thick in the heat
Now float on the faint muddy bank tide!
I dream of the day
My Phoenix tubers will climb
And seek the sunrise over the Eastern divide
In lands where the waters drain
Whole crowns of dark-green broccoli buds
Before the sun goes down in the Taiga! “
“ O! I’ll tell your whey-faced mother, My Dear!
Her eyes look long past the Western Gate!
Till your timbers all grow strong with sheen
And we’ll look for a handsome Prince, My Dear!
Sturdy as oak-bound sails on brine!
O! We’ll cut and soothe the grainy boards
Till the dressing-chest’s adorned
With trefoil liana round mirrors and knobs
On the day of your dowry’s prize
For you! For you alone! My Dear!
Down in the lowlands shut in fear! “
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Copyright ©
T Wignesan
|