NaPoWriMo

DAY 9 – Passing Things

April 9, 2019

The prompt given by the official NaPoWriMo site: A poem about ‘things’.

I don’t like short poems :/ (But I swear, this read would be worth it?)

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PASSING THINGS

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Grey with age the warden’s kin,

furrows in his skin.

The warden passed like wilted flowers

his son now guards his towers.

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Leaning on the balustrade,

he catches tides and trade.

From his watchtower he calls

when hastening footsteps fall.

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“Ye wanderer from distant land,

what news do you command?

My ears are keen but knees are weak

so of passing things speak.

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Of tourneys’ thrill and pompous fests,

unheard I shall not rest.

Of wars and quests and realms’ fate,

I beg you to narrate.”

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“Old man I envy you your rest

for on the king’s behest,

to pacify the princess’ son

who fled from home, I run.”

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Then left the man upon his steed

when one with sacks of greed-

a merchant from queer Irthelost,

by the tower paused.

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“Stay, oh wealthy ambling man

what brings you to this land?”

“The minister’s lost his cat, it’s told

on them who find rains gold.”

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‘Off, off on your way you be,

a hawker there I see,

what hangs from your dainty cart,

what treasures have you brought?”

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“Nothing but trifling trinkets here –

rusted cups that bear,

oxen’s eyes and porcupine meat

that men in Mauland eat.”

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“So now I know that dreadful stench

that this sweet air drench,

it’s from your filthy bag, I fear

that holds all such things queer.”

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“Next arrive the dancing troupes

with golden rings and loops.”

“What gamble do you stride towards?

to this man spare few words.”

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“Oh, old man hanging on the sill

we are from distant Ravil.

The minstrel’s pigs turn two-year-olds

for that a feast he holds.

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To ladies there from far off towns

and lords with silver crowns;

to all the rich bounties they hold,

our dance we shall unfold.”

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“Dance, dance, to your merry delight,

but hasten ‘fore the night,

when bandits dressed in rainbow gowns

I’ve heard, come prowl the towns.”

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And thus, to dusk, the noon dwindled

the warden’s kin fiddled,

waiting for one more passer-by

with trifling tales to sigh.

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But none that day rode once more there,

none with a lurid affair.

So the rest of the night he passed alone,

dreaming of things unknown.

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At last the overhead cotton clouds

Silent above him crowd.

With delight, to them he turned his stare –

“what tattle can you share?”

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When not a word they spoke to him,

he shrugged, humming a hymn.

All by himself, there he lied

watching the clouds and sighed-

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“All men are busy in errands loved

that fleet like passing cloud.

When all the world in movements sway,

it’s only us that lay.”

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I am inviting you all to join me in this venture. Use the prompt given above to craft your own verses.
And oh, be sure to tag me.

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#NaPoWriMo

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© 2019 Sahana Narendran

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