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The Amber Gatherer
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-- by
I tried to write a poem for imbolc 05, and it
didn't come out as the structure it was
supposed to-but I like it anyways.
**************************************************** In a Baltic winter's sigh Whose icy breath I must deny Daylight barely pinks the sky As I walk the shore. The shore, my everlasting task, the shore, The fields of stone my feet explore, Searching, seeking the briny reeking For amber drops galore. They hide in the freezing piles of weed They hide in the stones ashore, Those battered lumps of gold and need It's them I'm looking for. My hands are blue and knotted This season is worst by far The treacherous route that I've plotted Is lit by the evening star. The salt-rimed stone is slippery And the wind is sharp and cold But on a good day it's worth anything For those tumbling lumps of gold. ************************************* |
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