Wolf and the Owl
Poetry, Lyrics, Translations
and Musings by Alex Etchart


By on Saturday 19th May, 2012

He came in the night
Slipped through the back door
Like a curious wildcat

He danced carefree
Between cobwebbed corridors of dusty old tomes
Containing blurry childhood memories and forgotten fairy tales

In the dim lamplight he twirled and raved
Playing his pan-pipe wherever he strayed
Creepers grew in his footsteps wake
And flowers sprung up, bloomed and wilted to his song

As he tap-danced across the floorboards to an
Unknown entrancing pulsating life rhythm
He do-si-doed round candlelit shrines of traumatised trinkets
And on them he shined a strange new light

Leaping with laughter, soft yet profound
In his ecstatic state he swirled round and round
Bumped and knocked into rickety shelves
From whence a shard of my heart then fell
And silently slipped into his back pocket

Obliviously he waltzed on and on
In a starry-eyed frenzy to an invisible song
And wherever he twirled flocks of origami pelicans unfurled
Showering zen parables into shadowy corners of the maze
Only then did I stir, wake and rush down the stairs
To find my whole jumbled world realigned in the haze

But the faun was long gone
The back door left ajar
Down the bottomless garden
Singing fading from afar
I was left there to stare
Into the dark distance
Never even learning
His name…

Posted in: Panamoury, Poems

Blog owner, singing/strumming person, word speaker, community arts make-happen-er, eco-baby.


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