Archives for posts with tag: toil
Detail from Anton Melbye, "Lighthouse at Stora Bält" (1845) from image courtesy of www.wikipaintings.org/

Detail from Anton Melbye, “Lighthouse at Stora Bält” (1845) from image courtesy of http://www.wikipaintings.org/

The second-to-last exertion
is not the rainbow.
It is the to-and-fro flight 
of a raven clamped in darkness for 150 days.

Let there be
	beats the raven’s wings
Let there be
	beats the raven’s hope

No land, raven. No release.
Below yap choppy waves,
corpses float and catch 
on broken trees. No release, raven.
No land.

The raven’s wings beat
	there be no land
	there be no release
The raven’s wings beat 
above the choppy waves
and the rocking sucklings of the flood.

But the dove! 
This white-winged wonder bird
reaps the budding olive branch
and on the second flight, freedom.

The last exertion
is not a rainbow.
Although supposedly
one beamed for Noah
when the dove flew
away.


A link to Genesis 6-9 (NIV translation), which outlines the Bible story of Noah’s ark, the flood and the reconnaissance birds.

With four poems to go until the completion of the 104 project, there’s no denying that one may read in here an echo of art imitates life.

When I’m not posting on this blog, I tweet as @BeadedQuill. This Twitter account is linked to the BeadedQuill Facebook page.
If you prefer your reading in old-school format, perhaps you would consider adding one of my books to to your library? There are two from which to choose. Click on the titles below to preview.

Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys

Shining in Brightness

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Over the hills 
in this fulsome of seasons,
the rains trigger migration
of hartebeests in cravats.

With dress suits and readings
of love  patient, love kind,
they sniff over the morning 
for griddle-pan scones,

white-veiled receptions, 
soft hands at their temples. Ah, 
all those summers a-toiling 
they bring back to the valleys

as rings in their pockets
in snapped shut hinged boxes
to find all brides
have left for the sea.

As hinted at last week, here is the poem about grooms flocking to the valleys.  It was spurred by a dictionary explanation of fiancée that read “He went back to the valley to marry his fiancée.” In my accompanying essay to last Thursday’s post, “I do. Do you?”, I explain my wonder at such a contextualising mini-narrative. I also predicted a sprouting poem.

As a companion read, I recommend Liz Berry’s wonderful poem “The Year We Married Birds”. Hereunder my favourite line, no less because of the colon.

“My own groom was a kingfisher:
enigmatic, bright.”

It’s a busy marriage market out there with hartebeests in the valleys and magpies, Trafalgar pigeons and snow buntings in the cities. Too bad the brides have left for the sea.

P.S. The hartebeest is species of antelope.

Still looking for a completely original Christmas gift for a bibliophile? Preview my books of poetry.

Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys – Fresh off the press! 25 poems on life, love and work derived from the field-notes of an observant poetess.

Shining in Brightness – 20 selected poems chronicle twelve years of travel, relationships and growing up. Praised as “jewel-like droplets in a grey, urban landscape”.

Find Beaded Quill on Twitter (as @BeadedQuill) and Facebook.