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~ By Courtesy of Others ~

‘Tis to the Watery Halls of Ran

‘Tis to the watery halls of Ran,
Sad fate doth weave in wyrdling loom
There travels each drowned man.

Travels there to his salty doom,
The waves were tall, the gale was fierce,
As storm snapped stoutish boom.

Woods sadly splintered, broke and pierced
Sailor’s breast so badly granted gloom
Ne’er more to see those he held dearest.

For the Sea Queen made up his room.
That lad sleeps with the fishes now,
Gilt trimmed his sea clad tomb.

Full harsh hard is a sea man’s vow
Given with coin in hand,
Choosing watery rime over splendid sow.

Choosing sea o’er verdant land.
Ne’ermore his kin to great,
Ne’er again their stead he’ll stand.

‘Tis sealed his sad and salty fate,
In orlog’s final cold cast full
Sailor bound to Ran’s wat’ry estate.

© Jackie Hannigan  6/18/2005    

Jackie on Facebook    Scrying the Well (blog)

Image: Arthur Rackham.

Poetic form: Terza Rima

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