Poetry collection

[Nellie McEnt]

Sonnet for The Remembering Man
Adventure II, Page 81

O man exalted in this shadowed maze,
Fair fellow glorified by arrow-mind!
To times gone past with piercing eyes you gaze,
And greying coils of lost things unwind!

Though, like the morning mist, some things do fade
When present times present themselves like sun,
The tapestry our minds, unbidden, made,
You pluck at like a harp; it comes undone.

Forms pass us, dark and drear, most every day;
We cannot see inside their hidden hearts.
We don't recall them when they walk away;
Brief things are lost for good when they depart.

But when our memories can't serve, yours can;
So tell us this and that, rememb'ring man!


AAAANd another version for those who pronounce "coil" as one syllable (thanks Richard Weir for pointing that out)

O man exalted in this shadowed maze,
Fair fellow glorified by arrow-mind!
To times gone past with piercing eyes you gaze,
And greying coils of long-lost things unwind!

Though, like the morning mist, some things do fade
When present times present themselves like sun,
The tapestry our minds, unbidden, made,
You pluck at like a harp; it comes undone.

Forms pass us, dark and drear, most every day;
We cannot see inside their hidden hearts.
We don't recall them when they walk away;
Brief things are lost for good when they depart.

But when our memories can't serve, yours can;
So tell us this and that, rememb'ring man!

[corncobman]

Pg 82

Docks To Finland? Back In Rusty Trash Cans

"...Is this the docks to Finland?"
"What does it look like?"
The dockyard foreman,
Answering very spikey.

Did a man travel through here
About four weeks ago?
He doesn't remember, it's clear,
From weeks past, no-one would know.

However, the man's colleague,
Remembers him indeed.
One ticket the scout seeks,
But have the others agreed?

Off then, to his kinsman.
So that he can be freed.
Again in rusty trash cans,
Laments the overindulged Swede.

[corncobman]

Pg 83

Reminded Gently, Around Two Days Entry

During departure,
Remain in their seats.
Not much farther,
They can go find Onni.

Don't get up, please,
No standing! Ta!
In two days they'll reach
The channel of Saimaa.

The little boat tug,
Off on its merry way.
It steadily chugs,
'Til it nears the Finnish bay.

[Nellie McEnt]

Sonnet for Bornholm (which I forgot to post earlier)
Adventure II, Page 81

I did a month in quarantine before,
Upon return from travels harrowing.
And now, the second time I leave my door,
I see my chances waning, narrowing.

O Bornholm, where I thought the palm trees grew--
(And flowers, huge and colorful and bright!)
It seems that fate would keep me far from you,
Unblessed by Danish sun's warm southern light.

Upon an island fake's the hub for trade;
The island is closed-off by quarantine.
I'd be less disappointed if I'd stayed,
And left the wide world but conceived, not seen.

For sundered am I from my heart's desire:
Sweet Bornholm, only land that I admire.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sonnet for The Sea
Adventure II, Page 83
The sea is dark and indigo and wide,
Beneath a sky of tarnished silver-grey.
It carries us upon its changing tides
On paths set up by fate: we must obey.

It brought us from all corners of our world,
A ragtag crew who didn't know the price
Of all the trials lying crouched and curled
Along the road laid out by avarice.

(The golden one thought travel was more swift
Upon the sea than going by a train.
But now he sees that floating all adrift
Upon the ocean is a pokey pain.)

No matter all the tribulations, though,
The sea has brought us friends we're glad to know.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sonnet for Saimaa
Adventure II, Page 84

We cut a quiet track between the trees
That loom foreboding, green like dusk and dark
'Round water purple-silver; not a breeze
Dares stir that surface with a single mark.

They hedge us in, surround me with my fears
Each pricking, pointing finger on each bough
Rasps sing-song with the wind and softly jeers,
Go back, go back, you cannot save him now.

Yet still I'm drawn along, a siren-song
That lures me with the promises of home:
The fog-enshrouded woods where I belong,
The rocky, needled grounds I used to roam.

Two songs, two melodies of fear and trust--
I can't go forward, but proceed I must.

[corncobman]

Pg 84

Bridgeway Great, What Is Their Fate?

Through the bridge in the sky,
A roadway of the past.
The wee ship drifts by
The monument vast.

The houses of old,
Draw the passengers' eye.
A human stronghold,
That was fated to die.

For this island hop,
What ever is in store?
Until they reach their stop,
Sixty kilometres more.

------------------------------

Locking Canal, Flocking Et Al

Along the canal,
The tugboat does slink,
Lone waterway corralled,
The walled murky drink.

'Tween great oaken gates,
A shuttered sluice.
Momentary wait,
'Til the waters diffuse.

Huddled to view,
Through the glass port.
The small crowd drew
On the lowly transport.

[Nellie McEnt]

Sonnet for a Journey
(Sonnet for Friends)
Adventure II, Page 85

You huddle at the windows, peering out,
And watch your destination edging near
With lumb'ring stride and wistful tempest-shout,
A snarl and a much-foreboding sneer.

You thought (again) adventure was your end,
A journey grand with friends and family,
But you grow ever-solemn as you wend
Your weary, winding way to mystery.

Dear friends, draw closer still as walls hedge round
Enclosing you in dark and dreary grey.
Forget your grievances, forget the sounds
Of words unknown when they have aught to say.

You share no more than three or four months past,
But share this sight (for it may be your last).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Sonnet for a Translator
Adventure II, Page 86

Please, someone translate for the foreigners.
My language shares no word nor phrase with theirs,
But unlike me, all languages were hers,
To let her find her wings and take the air.

My isolation's summit was her flight,
The crushing pinnacle of my despair.
My silence was unbroken, day and night,
When once she found her wings and took the air.

In solitude I suffered for the sea--
No word that I could recognize was there
For months on end, and now it's up to me
(Since she has found her wings and taken air)

To translate without words for half my speech
Since she took flight upon a storm-tossed beach.

[Quetanto]

Adventure II, Page 86

Saimaa’s silent wonders–
Smaller boat is floating
On towards ten thousand
Tiny island homelands.
Fewer friends return here,
Finland’s lakes awak’ning;
Bright birds fly above them,
Broken team, two missing.

(Yes, this is supposed to be a dróttkvætt.)

[Nellie McEnt]

Sonnet for A Passing Ship
Adventure II, Page 87

In days long past we saw ships trawling by
Their broad decks filled with people night and day--
And, voices raised in laughter to the sky,
They leaned across the sides, then sailed away.

We used to gallop from the greenery,
With rolling gait, keep pace from edge of shade,
With darting eyes skip back among the trees
When searching gazes spotted our parade.

Then sickness washed the woodland like a wave,
And rotted out our minds, once sweet and sound.
The decks turned empty, silent as the grave;
Forgotten prints all faded from the ground.

Although our minds are dripping with disease,
We still keep quiet vigil from the trees.

~~~~~~

By the way, this is my 50th SSSSonnet and I am very happy about that fact!

[corncobman]

Pg 86

Spooky Forest Bones, Soon The Landing Zone

At the right height,
Proceed to the fore.
Skeletons in sight,
In the trees on the shore.

Anxiousness abates,
From the forest domain.
Back to the strait
And narrow again.

Attention passengers,
Now entering Saimaa lake.
Translate for the foreigners,
Landing they'll soon make.

----------------------------

Pg 87

Shadows Amass, Snakes In The Grass

Through the trees and the reeds,
The boat quietly rolls.
From dark demonic seeds,
Sowed serpentine trolls.

Waiting in the grass,
Plenty trouble a-brewing.
The unknowing that pass,
Will meet their undoing.

[Quetanto]

Adventure II, Page 87

In these haunted northern regions,
On this cursèd Saimaa passage,
Five intrepid heroes journey,
Journey after fam’ly fleeing.
Lonesome Lalli, language-lacking,
Left alone, and friends did follow;
Demons dance across the river–
Hark! The kade may be watching.

(Now an attempt at Finnish verse...)

[Nellie McEnt]

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1oRq30e2paPgpNNRjrK9boZ7lzO-rref-8RiX43qD6UE/edit?usp=sharing

some poetry for Lalli's birthday!

[Quetanto]

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1oRq30e2paPgpNNRjrK9boZ7lzO-rref-8RiX43qD6UE/edit?usp=sharing

some poetry for Lalli's birthday!

Colour me well and truly impressed, Nellie, with your Finnish verse...

[corncobman]

Pg 88

Channel Connector, Dangerous Sector

Disguised like hydrophytes,
Tendrils seek out its prey.
Hidden in plain sight,
Winding tongues among them sway.

A shadowed mass of blight,
Tooth-ed maws within maws.
A bloated creature of spite,
Consuming any vessel that draws.

Against the plague-ridden,
Locks are guarded, it's revealed.
Swimming there is forbidden,
Due to lurking beast-seals.

--------------------------------------------

Pg 89

Rivers, Inlets And Straits, Lakes To Negotiate

Through the inlets and straits,
A long red line dotted.
The distances seem great,
Through canals and lakes plotted.

He tried to avoid what was created,
A return journey misbegotten.
Though maybe in a sorry state,
Family must not be forgotten.

Past many a river gate,
Territory perhaps rotten.
That they may not be too late,
In hopes that he'll be spotted.

[Adge]

Writer’s Block
It seemed so easy then; the words falling
The ideas flowing natural as air
So simple just to echo the sweet calling,
The song flowering in all things, everywhere.
Each poem seemed a game, a child’s dare,
A joy of heart, a spirit’s toy for play;
Garlands to weave for other hearts to share,
And then to treasure, safely fold away.

Why, how or when it passed, I can not say,
Why came the day when the blossom there
Had withered unnoticed, the petals falling
Brown to the grass, no birds calling,
From the world’s dead twigs, its empty air
Where fallen words die, visions fade away.

Yet still a joy, a breath haunting the air,
Of distant flowers speaks, a song calling,
Whose echoes I shall weave again one day.

[Nellie McEnt]

Writer’s Block
It seemed so easy then; the words falling
The ideas flowing natural as air
So simple just to echo the sweet calling,
The song flowering in all things, everywhere.
Each poem seemed a game, a child’s dare,
A joy of heart, a spirit’s toy for play;
Garlands to weave for other hearts to share,
And then to treasure, safely fold away.

Why, how or when it passed, I can not say,
Why came the day when the blossom there
Had withered unnoticed, the petals falling
Brown to the grass, no birds calling,
From the world’s dead twigs, its empty air
Where fallen words die, visions fade away.

Yet still a joy, a breath haunting the air,
Of distant flowers speaks, a song calling,
Whose echoes I shall weave again one day.

I know I said this in the comments but you're a delight and an amazing human being and I am eternally grateful for your presence in this fandom, and I love this poem very much!