Merlin Isombard Ven Trout

The Black Forest

All roads lead to Hampshire
and the black forest looms ahead;
the vaulted canopies arch
and birds twitter like pensioners -
all is calm and serene at dusk.

As the moon rises I hold it
in my hands: cupping it softly
and drinking of its milky sweetness.
The eagle spreads its wings
and cries to the godess of the wood -

Hampshire, hampshire, hampshire!

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, September 28, 2006
Poem Edited: Saturday, September 25, 2010

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Comments about The Black Forest by Merlin Isombard Ven Trout

  • Consuela Bananahammock (9/28/2006 5:40:00 AM)

    Echoes of John Clare, je pense? Hampshire so feelingly personated! Kipling eat your imperialist fascist heart out! Let's go!

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