Listen to this poem

Hear the plaintive
wailing of the sídhe

guardian of Knockanor

warning all
to heed her siren’s call

not for mortal ears

lovers hence to flee

courtship, then their lives are o’er

ne’er knowing
just what comes after

eternal, or night.

This one is dedicated back to Jodi Og. Thanks for your Irish dedication to me. Sláinte!

Rhyme on!

About Tim Keeton

Flashfiction published by Seedpod Pub. Poetry appears in Read Write Poem 2010 Anthology. Founder & creator of the Undead Poets Society
This entry was posted in Audio File, Charter Membership, Poems, Poetry, UDPS and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to ‘Ware

  1. joanny says:

    Love Irish style poetry — a fine poem indeed!

    Sláinte here’s to your health—


  2. soulintention: signed .............bkm says:

    lovely tim….bkm

  3. soulintention: signed .............bkm says:
  4. Jodi MacArthur says:

    Life is a sort of dark romance with fragrant moments. This Irish poem shows this, and so much more… Dark celtic is indeed in your soul, and its lovely when it flows out.

    I’ve been super busy with life stuff, forgive me for not seeing this sooner. I’m tickled as can be. Thank you!!!

  5. janflora says:

    Really like this one. Gave me shivers 🙂

  6. Pingback: Audio added #undeadpoets | Undead Poets Society

  7. Wonderful poem Tim…
    I still do not know how to post so here is another poem:

    Sighs At Midnight

    hushed sighs fill the twilight
    dead hours softly they sing
    still water over stone and rock
    deep in the mindless part of night
    when roams the soul and speaks to darkness where light has no dominion.

    reflected in the mirror___
    sounds and shapes appear
    reality distorted, are they there?
    plaintive cries against the knocking come
    ah, the mistress of mortal shades prevails
    as one upon one the forms comely acquiesce.

    moving to music unheard…
    the pipes of pan sound forth
    while dance they may amid the shadows
    faces blacker then hell___blacker still
    swirl and spin dizzily they spin
    eyes shut tight you mind unhinged brims with fear
    oh, sweet Savior, how long to morns first light?

    fear speaks ever shrilly in grave unhallowed tones
    reality twists and turns in the wild kingdom, ancient of old___
    make an end to this illusion, this romance with the night
    reconcile this relic where dawn has no hold….
    black the dirt ever heaves and moves now to cover me.

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