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Rite of Spring

by bluesky3d 

Posted: 17 January 2004
Word Count: 111


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Beechwood black as witchesí smock
the occult warlock flies about
The air is fresh with whispering
the living dead are listening
The moon is cloaked diaphanous grey
that singing blind man is the wind
The curious laughter of our kind
echoes in the circle round
Luminous in transparent form
the spirit of the night is born
The virgin huntress hides her head
while shrinking in our nothingness
the symbolic victim dressed in white is led
down paths too steep to stop
she sinks to earth from where she fights
Then still, lying motionless she screams she cries
and summerís secret silence breaks
while hedonistic bodies astralised
the soon found spirit asphyxiates






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Comments by other Members



poemsgalore at 12:15 on 17 January 2004  Report this post
This is my kind of poem blue, eerie and other-worldly with hints of the occult.

"The air is fresh with whispering
the living dead are listening
The moon is cloaked diaphanous grey
that singing blind man is the wind"

is such imaginative use of words.

bluesky3d at 13:05 on 18 January 2004  Report this post
I should come clean and admit that I wrote this in 1968, when I was in the sixth form. I am pleased that you think it stands the test of time, Kathleen.

<Added>

Just came across it the other day.

roovacrag at 13:14 on 20 January 2004  Report this post
I agree with Kathleen,my type of poem. Living dead walking the streets,Virgin huntress,while the victim dressed in white,a virgin. Good one. xxxAlice

bluesky3d at 09:58 on 22 January 2004  Report this post
Thank you Alice - great you liked this one - it won the school poetry prize apparently, but I didn't go back and collect it as by then, I'd left - maybe it's still waiting for me to collect?

A :o)


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