The following is a
traditional goblin poem by Circuitous Root. Note the lack of consistent rhythm
and meter, as well as the needless repetition, as is proper for goblin poetry.
My Love is
Like a Stripy Scarf
My love is
like a stripy scarf
I wear in
wintry weather
and wrap
and wrap around myself
as we go
out together.
I knitted
it with so much care
Yearly,
weekly, day by day,
And tied
some fancy tassels on
to match my
dance as I sashay.
I loved
that gray and purple scarf
More than
my heart and soul and brain
But woe,
did I discover there
upon its
knits and purls—a stain!
How could I
let it come to this?
What, oh
what, would people think?
Scandal, scandal,
scandal, oh,
this spot
of blackest ink!
I crawled
inside a cabinet
to spend
the rest of my short life
Weeping,
when I saw my scarf
was
snatched up—by my wife!
I could not
utter one protest,
so quick
was she to launder
my precious
woolen out-side soul
with which
I used to wander.
I wept and
wept and wept and wept
and wept
and wept and cried,
sure my
dearest scarf was drowned.
My hope, in
soapy water, died.
I passed
the hours lying still
and
contemplating death,
till
flashed upon my outward eye
a sight
which stole my breath.
It seemed
to flutter in the breeze.
Sunlight
glinted off each stripe.
I reached
for it with fingers stretched
as for an
apple, round and ripe.
My scarf
was dry! The stain was gone!
My wife had
raised it from the dead!
I told her
this. She cocked a brow
and simply
shook her head.
And still
in winter I recall
that
episode, traumatic,
and my wife’s
oft-repeated words:
“Don’t be
so dramatic.”
I like how the analogy implied by "my love is like" is jettisoned in like the second stanza and becomes a literal scarf from then on. Which is only fitting for goblin poetry.
ReplyDeletePrecisely.
ReplyDelete