Here’s another poem. I wrote it a little while ago. Just after my twenty-third birthday in fact. In general, I do not enjoy my birthdays… I haven’t enjoyed a birthday since I was ten. It was something about double-figures so you can imagine how I feel about slowly creeping up the twenties! As part of my birthday "celebrations" we visited a place called The Fairy Knowe on Doon Hill near Aberfoyle. Legend has it that the pine tree at the summit of the hill contains the restless spirit of the Reverend Robert Kirk. He studied local fairy lore, publishing his findings in The Secret Commonwealth (1691). As punishment for making public these supernatural secrets, he was snatched away by the fairies to languish in fairyland forever more. Anyway, if you make a wish and walk around the tree seven times it should come true. But beware if you walk the wrong way. I love things like that and I guess it made my birthday slightly less painful!

Apologies for the lack of posts recently. I am frantically trying to complete my Masters dissertation. Only eleven days to go and then I’ll be well and truly back to the creative writing because, quite frankly, if I have to write many more academic footnotes I may well go insane.

Another year had wandered passed
With lead toed boots, muddied all
The life I live. Squandered fast
With nought to show but this scrawl.

And there I stood, smiles beneath
The streamers on the chandelier.
My multi-coloured mourning wreath
Heralds the death of another year.

The table gleams, treasures atop,
Musing on the memories gone.
Innocence wilts in a teardrop
A child from a time, once upon.

A small, green steed and a knight
In jeans flew with me into the sun
Enchanted rode we through fading light
The night sang lullabies of fun re-begun.

Sweet melodies of blissful sleep
Linger as the dawn glows red
We lovers arise, and up we leap
Into Hope’s rosy joy, we fled.

Up blue hills and passed a stream,
Through the cool-veiled waterfall
We looped a knot around a dream
And listened for the fairies’ call.

And here we are, back again.
Gone the whispering bluebells.
Wishes swirl through life and rain,
Love and pain, kissed by fairy spells.

This entry was posted on Monday, August 27th, 2007 at 9:43 pm and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.