Wednesday, August 15, 2012

From my Dear Friend Dwayne St. Romain for my Birthday

Berylaini Bastet Mystic Maid of Pi-Beset

“Is Faith the nadir; Fate the zenith,

We mid-heaven eye for God;

Will a butterscotch placebo,

Clanging zill in thrusts to dust

Never fare for intervention,

Clockwork desperate chattel’s lust,

Prayers in vain to saints we named

For finding peas in Freedom’s fraud

While famous nameless shell game dealers

Seal our heels in reels of sod

To glean a stream of adoration

Cogitas ergo sum? and nods.”

The candles played the room in flickers

Scotch annealed, the boy’s mind quickened

Hope from smoke to ember reared.

‘Master clear your wisdom’s dressing

Greif has wearied my perception.

Help me heal my love, Niamh?

Several lives I’d serve in trade,

Best a day she’ll kiss the reaper

Rested in pith by “tin” of spades.”

The Magi sighed, his carriage softened

Love, contagious, warmed his steel.

“Spare your care Maeldun Derry

Fate is but a slate of notes.

Grace’s feather pushes rivers,

Sweeps down mountains, fondres repair;

Movements scored and edits rendered

By the Seraph of Swatara.

There the errors and corrections

Cast effects on time and air

Under hand with Phoenix’s quill

Grace meets Will in Chanticleer.

Berylaini Bestat Mystic Maid of Pi-beset

Sets the present on existence.

Query her for change of scheme

Hence your quest the damsel waits

She could wet the quill to fill her

From the stream of living dreams.”

With map and compass, staff and quiver,

Maeldun Derry kissed Niamh,

Hearty faering used as knarr

Diamond, gilded dragon’s lead

To misty Susquehanna keystones

Saatus Falls, Tioga Chasm,

Up Swatara’s dark escarpment

Through the Forest of Blue Ruin

Chanticleer backed Firebow Bog

Ripe with red, high gladiola’s,

Violent violet Venus’ clutch,

Luscious blazing colors shimmer

Jeweled with half sunk hero’s skulls,

Maeldun was strong and nimble

Clear of sight through glade’s charade

Wading through the forest’s gate

Chartreuse, beryl, jade and olive,

Ocean deep and disconcerting

Fastened to the path was he

By gnashing thorns a crags of brambles

Steady, honed and resolute

Approached a high pagoda steepling

The hallowed hollow Pi-beset.

A bending, leaning shack- ish temple

Shingled planks devise a roof

On ornate cabin trite with whimsy

Cauldron boils in shady glen,

Gnomes in chef wear argue cooking

Halted seconds by his beauty,

Maeldun Derry held salute

Pointed to the door, expected

He gathered up and fixed his question.

Hum bird’s beak stroked door bell’s ring

A pleasant voice spoke close and scared him.

“Come in friend, Maeldun Derry.”

His eyes reached wide as his head bowed

Into the dwarfish timber door

The scale within of Ramsey’s temple,

Ishtar, Oura and Persephone

Were icons next to Maman Brijit
Totems, ivy hugged with ivory

She relaxed; he taken back,

Massaged his eyes to reckon sobered

This raven winged, fair, green eyed Seraph

Lounging on a lion lying.

Beside them stood a fancy desk.

A six foot quill in well, majestic

Coruscate with teal and fire

It held a book a yard square girth.

She beckoned him to kneel before her

Calm compliant he came forth

To take her hand, to kiss its ring

Mael was helpless but to linger.

A tear he shed fell on her wrist

She let one fall beside it, mated.

“Your beauty lends me warmth and chill;

Niamh,” she asked “prompts your urging?”

“Blessed Angel hear my prayer.”

“The book itself notes true prayers rendered.”

“Help me Dame of God I plea.”

“I led you here for this bequeathing

Anxious for your face with glee.

The Metatron brings forth no edict,

Sick with love’s cheap precedent,

Disallows my intervention;

Still I’ve penned a line or two,

Censures causing mountains ripple,

Cripples Will with shock and awe,

Now I find you here delicious,

Relief is her should you concur.”

Maeldun looked up reviving

Hope where only dark connived.

“Yours is now three tribulations

Paid with grief and grim repose.”

She looked into his soul unhindered.

“From birth for this have I arose.

Please Angel set for my Niamh

Any hell I may transgress

Or healthy dragon I may saddle,

Satan’s kiss would be no stress,

Rattle grails for sips to give her

Living bliss and laughter filling

Let me still the reaper’s spur,

Lady work your magic quill.”

Berylaini licked her lips

“Your beauty child and chivalry

Earns my mercy for your sweetheart,

You prevail and she is free.

I will grant three tribulations

Nothing’s free in this hard world.

First a kiss, He reached. She stopped him

Not me child, my kitty Beau.”

Maeldun bowed, lips a quiver,

The lion’s breath was putrid, hot.

It licked him with its face wide tongue,

The boy, haunt blushes stupid, laughs.

The Seraph laughed quite girlishly

“Now that’s a fitting tribute Derry.”

Sailed he then the green crystal sea

To join his father fierce in fight,

Ailill Ochair of Agha slain

Upon the fields ‘fore Dubcluain.

Now vengeance raped his passion’s fury

Rushed to odyssey on tear

Through fire horse and demon’s gauntlet

Isle of Sorrows; gorgon’s stare,

And when at last revenge was minted

Niamh regained his mind

Father dead and payment gathered

To the knarr and crystal brine

Back to Pi-beset he journeyed

One last mystery to endure

Were Berylaini Bastet smiled

“Your absence here bedogged me Derry

Your maiden walks now fresh and free

My intervention stayed her, tempered

Your indenturing is mine

For her long life yours is traded

Reconcile your gift sublime.”

Maeldun Derry crumbled down

His hand on hilt did tremble ready

But stiffened up and wrestled frowns

The contract penned, Niamh sound

His heart beat raw and tender steadied

“Greater love has none than that.”

He knelt; she touched his head and shoulders

There a noble lion sat

Compass, bow and map and quiver

Under Maeldun Derry’s hat

Prostrate, docile takes his collar

She attached a silver chain

“Maeldun Derry, proud arch hero

Fate has always named you mine

Faith and strength and perseverance

Scripts the book with living lines

God has worked through you young Derry

Sacrifice has its rewards

Your Niamh won’t forget you

Let her love repel remorse

Now your honor keeps what’s written

Forever it is yours to keep,

Maeldun Derry sit beside me

Here’s a scratch and kitty treat.

 © 2012 Dwayne St. Romain

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