My inbox is hungry for asks :D
can braid my hairs again
after not sewing much in ??? months, i finally broke my dryspell
Once again, another submission to the local college magazine Blackbird fro the July edition. This particular poem is based on the legend of St. Kenelm, an Anglo-Saxon prince who ascended the throne at the age of seven upon his father's death. He was quickly martyred/assassinated by his jealous sister Cwendred, who asked her lover to carry out the dirty work.
"Once a good King past to Death
Cynewulf by name
And left he but a stripling heir
Young Cynehelm by name.
"Had Cynehelm two sisters great
Yet scarcely 'like, the twain
Burgenhild' a maiden loyal
And Cwendred, woman vain.
"To slay her kith and gain the crown
Was Cwendred's only want
And so she bid her lover dear
To do a task so gaunt.
"Slay the child for me, my love
Cooed Cwendred to her man
Finish him with scarce a word
And take his life in hand.
"So Ascbert went a' riding then
With Cynehelm one day
Hunting in the forest deep
For a prince to slay.
"Stopped they for a brief respite
For Cynehelm to rest
And up behind did Ascbert come
At his dame's behest.
"But Cynehelm spake Nay my lord
You shall not slay me here
Yet take this rod and plant it there
And bid my end come near.
"So planted he a rod of thorn
And sprung from it an Ash
Then 'neath that tree did Ascbert strike
And Cyn'helm breathed his last.
"But from the grave his Soul did fly
In likeness of a dove,
- As prophecy foretold by dream -
Beyond the boughs above."
Again, you may re-post or share this this as you like, but please remember to cite my name (Benjamin Spick) and the name of my blog (tiedinknotsart) as your source! This is my original work and is very important to me. Don't steal it!
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