Simon Gwynn

Rookie (2nd March,1947 / UK)

The Wooden King - Poem by Simon Gwynn

Through the halls of the wooden king the owl drifts,
drops a hooting eye clutching at his dusty raiment.
Rips it away and in the basement
the baby wakes and rises up
to Paradise
with a covenant of good news.

Beyond the wooden rampart the man walks,
bathes in a still pool, crouches in the grass,
moves his fingers upon his face with a small smile.
Discovers a mouth beginning to move,
annexes his tree and
raises his totem pole.

In broken tongues our words with the earth are mingled.
Passing through to Paradise I see
dropp through the air with a cry
of gladness, bewilderment,
the new king. Birds
determine the edge of the world.

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Comments about The Wooden King by Simon Gwynn

  • Brian Dorn (5/2/2006 11:05:00 AM)

    Simon, an interesting write filled with symbolic imagery... great ending line!
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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, May 2, 2006

Poem Edited: Sunday, July 30, 2006

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