Short Eton Poems

Figs poached in massala wine
Proper custard with
Cherry bakewell financiers
rose-water meringues
a plum eton mess
cordial
Cool !...

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Constancy of will is a power
    Present where few may expect.
    Men who won’t rear it reject
Dreams to blossom into a flower. 

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Limerick: Once an elegant Earl from Eton

Once an elegant Earl from Eton
Daily dreamed of swinging with Tarzan
In Brazil learned samba
Married virile cougar
Now sells D.V.D.s on Amazon.

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2013....

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Save me from the dark:
Make me like a lark,
Show me what is fair
To allay my care!

Take me from the deep:
Show me how to keep
All I have on earth
Fit for my rebirth!

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I saw white lilies floating on the lake
And thought of reeds bent forth over the marsh. 
It is much easier, indeed, to take
The form of water lilies, and perhaps less harsh.

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One life you gave me as a gift,
    And yet I never knew
That I could ever show less thrift
    With love where it was due. 

For all I have, I am in debt
    To many, though to you
I am obliged enough to let
    Your hopeful dreams accrue.

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Some warn that everything’s been said,
    But others disagree.
Many would claim that rhyme is dead;
    I want to wait and see. 

Some thoughts are harder to convey
    When prosody abides, 
Yet should one choose to throw away
    The beauty it provides?

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A tree's old branches grew toward the sky
And sought to touch the moon in her ascent. 
His aim was too elusive to defy
Earth’s call, so then the tree more gladly lent
His crown to nightingales, which sang on high,
With gratefulness, their passions tree-ward bent. 

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Another turtle in the sun
Or nightingale perched on a tree;
Another day whose course has run
For living things, for you and me. 

Another nursling stirs anew,
Its dull fate longing to defy;
Another pair will drink love’s brew,
But now, for once, it’s you and I. 

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If we were fish, we could not swim,
Nor live our days at Cora’s whim.
We differ as the sea from land,
Which write men’s epitaphs on sand. 

Transfixed by time, we hardly mean
What the pale universe has seen
Embodied many times before:
Dim rays of starlight, nothing more. 

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The lights that blinds the moth at dusk
Is like the elephant’s white tusk,
Which charms the eye but robs the purse:
A gentle animal’s great curse. 

Alike, when love by time is borne
Within a mind to duty sworn, 
Fond memories the heart enslave
And both are carried to the grave. 

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Some truths should not be said out loud:
By thought alone they may be formed.
To make them known is not allowed,
Because the plebe might be informed.

Some facts are shocking to the mob
And treated as deceptive schemes.
Woe to the man who tries to rob
The human race of hopeless dreams!

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Letters to dust,
Wearily cast,
Sculpted on stone, 
Singing alone. 

Words on a slab,
Spelt by Queen Mab,
Torn from the sky,
Voiced upon high. 

Thoughts from above,
Painted with love, 
Ready to bloom
Over the moon. 

Rhythms unheard,
Blissful and stirred,
Panting to be
Leaves on a tree. 

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Linden tree branches whisper your name
Cherished by flowers, blessed by the sky,
Carved on a stone. The sepulcher’s flame
Kindles and keeps my memories nigh. 

When your departure day I bemoan,
Endless your absence seems to have been. 
Deep in my heart regret you have sown,
Darker than weeping willows have seen. 

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There was an actor once, whose age
    Was far too young
To warrant tragedy on stage. 

A sapling’s roots were harshly wrung
    And taken far away,
Where to a barren rock they clung. 

I, likewise, did not have a say
    When I was torn and flung,
And yet I lived and thrive today.

    This is my childhood song. 

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In the hollow of a tree by the river,
    There are fledglings whose voices quiver
Like the melody of morning, unworried
    That the moon by the sun is hurried. 

Like these chicks, I’m content to unravel,
    Undisturbed on my earthly travel, 
The undying and ravishing wonder
    Of this world, which no storm can sunder.

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Short are journeys when, in the thralls of passion,
Lovers climb the mountains of boundless pleasure,
Reaching lofty peaks in unbridled fashion,
    Free of all measure. 

Then, a force invoked by the blissful senses
Swells the boiling spring of creation nearing
Swift eruption. Suddenly, fire advances
    Fast and unfearing. 

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The outburst of a star
Has travelled very far
To show its splendid flame
    On high.

In passing, when it came,
Its glow was all the same
As when it longed to die
    Astray.

It wilted with a sigh,
Unfearful to defy
The biddings of its day
    Or sleep.

There is no better way
To dwindle and decay
Than, like a star, to weep
    Away.

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The cool ocean breeze,
On nights warm as these,
Is blowing with ease
As we sail the seas.

The moon and the tide
Have nothing to hide,
And bravely we ride
With stars as our guide.

We cruise over green
Dominions marine,
Indulging unseen,
Unheard and serene.

On ripples of bliss,
We roll as we kiss.
Lo, friend, never miss
A journey like this!

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A bud has blossomed in sweet summer’s core;
A fairy tale has started in the realms of lore. 
A seed has landed on auspicious ground;
A chick has burst in trills of happy sound. 

The waves have swelled at nature’s candid bid;
The gloomy rain has closed her weeping lid. 
The joy of life has dared to grow on thee;
The kiss of love has blessed and summoned me.

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A fawn was ousted into light
At Moira’s playful whim;
Its mother’s keening birthed delight
Too rapturous to limn. 

If Circe were to steer your craft
To her Olympian shore, 
Into your hair the wind she’d graft
Your favor to restore. 

Into that fawn you’d then be turned
To quell her jealous lust, 
Which never has so brightly burned
Nor risen quite so fast. 

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One day, all living things might fill
     The ocean of the past
And every ship, against our will, 
     Could bear a broken mast. 

That day, when no one’s left to know
     Of Satan and of God,
Our giant star shall burst and sow
     A diadem of blood. 

The relics of our ancient world
     Shall sleep in ageless ice,
Or else burn bright as they are hurled
     To seal our sacrifice. 

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How cold and quick can Terror be!
For long it slithers by, unfelt,
Until its victim cannot see
The blow of horror being dealt.

It waits in darkness long indeed
Allowing victims false aplomb,
Then blazes out with strength and speed
As bold and baneful as a bomb.

Relentless courage must have he
Who hunts this serpent in the night,
Until at last his hand is free
Its head to sever with a scythe.

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Masted castles crown the mountains
   Hidden by the brackish sea,
Where a string of boiling fountains
   Dot the ever-spreading lea. 

Leafless forests of the deep,
   Visited by swimming birds,
Serve as sailors’ place to sleep,
   Roamed by mute, abyssal herds. 

Neptune’s armies stride undaunted
   While his mammoths plunge and rise,
One of which bewitched and haunted
   Ahab to his swift demise.

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I still recall when life was slow
    In quaint and little towns,
But now my own, which I best know,
    In noise and tantrum drowns. 

When but a boy, I could walk free
    Along the quiet streets,
Where flowers donned each house and tree. 
    How fast all beauty fleets!

Today, the dragon-like great beast
    Of progress on attack
Disturbs and kills shy nature’s feast:
    I want her silence back.

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