An Etude…one more time!

It was like pulling teeth to get down to poetry this morning. Partly it was distraction. We are introducing a new cat into what must now be a pride of little lions…a fourth cat in the household, in addition to one large, old dog who behaves like a cat. But then Ellie was born under the sign of Leo…

I thought if I fed myself a grand cooked Sunday breakfast inspiration would arrive with digestion. But no. I looked at the usual blogs (Brain Pickings is a favourite), but the poem on that post just made me feel haggard and not up to the stuff. (Auden will do that to you.) Nothing much was triggering much of anything…

Finally, finally, finally…a word posted in a comment by Patsy a couple days back. A lovely word. But one I had to go look up! (Well played, Patsy!) This is more a five finger exercise, the etude stuff my piano teacher would have me at to warm up. That’s what started at the beginning of this writing a poem a day lark back in September 2018. Apologies to Daphne du Maurier fans. But I simply couldn’t help my self!

Eidelon

Last night I dreamt of Eidelon
its misty drive,
shady demesne,

dreaming that it was whole again,
not burnt out shell,
bricks loose, gap toothed.

I dreamt I was its chatelain,
or some fresher
version,

loose tressed, a little bit wanton-
not Guinevere
or Isolda -

more Beltane belle in Avalon-
without dire
consequences.

Last night I dreamt of Eidelon
rising above
oh so perfect.

Not wraith or spectre - an engine-
memory of
idolatry,

a mechanism long past sprung
with its pity,
and terror, too.

I once thought its acres heaven,
but its sad form
has gone rotten.

Though not in dreams of Eidelon.


Copyright © 2019 Bee Smith. All rights reserved.

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