Sunday, 29 November 2020

Poem: THE LADY OF HAVENOT AND THE SEVEN WHISPERS

 




THE LADY OF HAVENOT 
AND THE SEVEN WHISPERS
 

the first whisper comes in off the estuary 
where she sits fretting in her high tower, 
it tells her of the call of wild geese 
on their migratory flight across the tides, 
the second whisper comes as the two moons set 
over the horizon leaving only a crown of scattered stars, 
it tells her of the desert stillness 
where nothing moves but sand-grains 
caught and thrown in the sirocco, 
the third whisper comes after she’s eaten a supper 
of pomegranate and clear heather-honey, 
and she’s brushed her hair at the mirror a hundred times 
and repaired to her bed chamber to sleep, 
it tells her of a lone galleon that sails beyond 
the edge of the world where the machineries 
of heaven can be heard in celestial murmur, 
the fourth whisper comes as she closes her eyes 
and sleep dances around the corners of her mind, 
it calls to her of freedom and desire, 
the merging of flesh in a sweet tenderness 
of poetry, wine and madness dressed only 
in a garment of kisses for she needs nothing more, 
the fifth and sixth whispers come in dream sendings 
on landscapes of sunflower blossoms drunk on pollen 
and trees are so tall they scrape patterns on the moons, 
the seventh whisper is a single word, 
but when she wakes it’s gone, and she aches at its loss, 
she wanders for a week and a day until 
she meets it again stooped at the village stile, 
she holds her breath for it to speak 
knowing the word will be either 
love, or death
 


Published in print and online at: 
‘UTOPIA SCIENCE FICTION Vol.1 Issue 2 (October)’ 
(USA – October 2020) 

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