Gathering Darkness(Being An Early Christmas Poem For Scarlett) Poem by Dónall Dempsey

I lie
in a bed

of bluebells

one hand flung outwards
as if I were

a Shakespearean
actor

the other clutching
my heart

a mellowdrama

a puppet kind
with broken strings.

The sun
kisses me

as if it were
my lover.

Trees
poplar trees

print themselves
in a frieze

on the edge
of my vision

upon a sky so
blue

I could almost die.

A synchronicity of birds
a serendipity of birds

sweeps forwards
& backwards

delighting the brilliant
blue.

I laugh
inside my self

because my voice
is choked

with blood
on every word

my heart beats so
fast fast

then so slow
s l o w

somewhere in
a distance

a battle rages
now somehow

passing me by

my horse
crops the grasses

chomps
bluebells.

He wears
my blood

and a little
of his own.

I lie
in my bluebelled bed

& try
not to die.

Blood like some
delicious wine

oozes through
my fingers.

I am aware
& yet unaware

that it is
mine.

I hear someone
crying

realise suddenly
its me

as darkness
the darkness

...gathers.