Tuesday, September 26, 2017
Through the Pentagonal Window
Around the house the creatures go
They pass like shadows to and fro
And what they are we can not know
So keep the latches tight.
But father see the fur that gleams
Like rainbows flashing across streams
These are the things that walk in dreams
Not those that tear and bite.
My child you know not the world's tears
Though you may think I nurse my fears
I have the wisdom born of years
I know my way is right.
Father their song is praise of life
They bare no fang, they wield no knife
Where is the merest sign of strife?
Their eyes are clear and bright!
Your mother reasoned thus as you
She trusted in their graces too
And through the door to them she flew
We do not know her plight.
But look I see her in the wood
Where trees stand tall and beasts are good,
In the fair dappled beams she stood.
She's gone now from the light!
That is not her true voice I hear
Though it sounds nearly on the ear,
As her voice sounded pure and clear
Upon our wedding night.
Son, stop, do not step out of doors
They move so swiftly on all fours
And soundlessly they move their paws
Son No! Oh...no...the sight....