And when October fell
And dark descended golden,
Hearts that dormant lay
Leapt out of Summer’s molten
Heat to Harvest, filled with angels,
With reaping to be done.
The season called for dying,
And they answered, all as one.
That angry answer roiled above.
Hands fair clenched the Holy Rood.
They come to bathe their feet anon
In the dying wicked’s flowing blood.
by Evan Wilson
And dark descended golden,
Hearts that dormant lay
Leapt out of Summer’s molten
Heat to Harvest, filled with angels,
With reaping to be done.
The season called for dying,
And they answered, all as one.
That angry answer roiled above.
Hands fair clenched the Holy Rood.
They come to bathe their feet anon
In the dying wicked’s flowing blood.
by Evan Wilson
3 comments:
May I never again hear a critical comment concerning the rhyming of 'forest' with 'Delores' and 'sneeze' with 'leaves' from one who attempts 'Holy Rood' with 'blood' and 'golden' with 'molten'.
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