Garden Comes Alive

I wrote this poem in response to an assignment I gave when teaching a British Literature class (I always write with my students). We were reading Beowulf, and the assignment was to write a “boast” poem using the figurative language techniques of alliteration and the kenning. A kenning is a compound word creation which originated in Icelandic/Anglo-Saxon times that accentuates or magnifies an idea. I had a great deal of fun writing this. Since we’ve had such a long, cold winter here in Vermont, it seems like the perfect time to post it.

The Lady Says

All ye heroes of olde–

I come from the far green fields and
forested trails of three-leafed trilliums.
I am a bare-footed earth-tender
coaxing greens from cold ground
in rain-soaked springtime when
all is wind-song and unfurling flowers.

Ye winter-princes, seekers of long-sleeps,
who will believe your glory-dreams?
We want no hero’s second-hand stolen silver.
Yay, though ye speak of moon-washed diamonds,
of warm fire hearths and star-tripping to the kingdom of peace,
you offer bouquets of fall’s forgotten ragweed,
empty stew pots and pillows of ice.

We’ll hear no more laments, now go!
Take your white-snow-freeze,
your drizzled-grey ghosts and
and your lead-heavy heart of dark!

I am thy dreaded vanquisher.
My breath is of sweet-apple air,
my blood flows clear-river melt,
my body Olde World tamarisk,
a salt cedar flowering pink
amongst all adversity.
I sing song-spells with the sparrows–
calling out the road-weary
who stumble their way towards
a fiddler’s flame-seared melody.

I am the one who draws down summer’s
long, luscious light.