Friday, 4 February 2011

In the Hollow of the Night

This I wrote some time ago, and have now forgotten who originally inspired it. In certain moods I am a bit like a male version of this myself. Sapphire the Sorceress, one of my favourite ongoing characters, is a lot like this, all the time, and people tend to misunderstand her to the marrow. One of these days, I'll finish some tale of her for which there is some imaginable market.

In the Hollow of the Night

In the silence and the dark
Hearts of flint may strike a spark,
And the wind from off the whinny moor may blow a smacking kiss.
Will you try to draw them in -
Knives of stone and knives of whin?
Will you call the frost around your fire, and think she’ll call it bliss?
Though she loves the whirling world
As she lies about it curled,
Cuddled silvery in starlight - she'll not love you by the barlight
But she'll sing
Of the salt and wasted years she's been warmed to mud and tears
By the friendships that she's chilled
And the parties that she's killed.
Will you walk her glinting ways awhile, and share a cup of quiet?
If a whisper in your ear
Bade you leave your barmy beer,
Would you get your coat, and learn how air and stone will hold their riot?
Minds of steel may love aright
In the hollow of the night.

...Alternatively, I will best-seller me such stupendous best-sellers that anyone will publish anything I subsequently offer that is in a plausible human language - even Sapphire's seventeen-canto Epic Doggerel, A Piece of the Sky. This may however take some small time, and sundry unforeseeable events may delay it even further.

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