Tuesday, 28 August 2012


CREATION’S FINAL LAW*  Wendy Webb

Our natures love all animals of rage,
born liquid eyes of innocence and peace.
God-traced humanity on every page
that turns our wildness tame when warrings cease.

Born liquid eyes of innocence and peace
delight us in the safety of a nest,
that turns our wildness tame when warrings cease
within a garden where our hearts find rest.

Delight us in the safety of a nest,
of startling softest fur in mist and glade;
within a garden where our hearts find rest,
where flashing amber coat drifts into shade.

Of startling softest fur in mist and glade
and panting comic grimace, pad and sniff,
where flashing amber coat drifts into shade,
squelch-rising stench of tooth and claw, of whiff

and panting, comic grimace, pad and sniff;
a whistle or a bugle on the breeze,
squelch-rising stench of tooth and claw, of whiff
of blood-soaked hounded pelt dragged to its knees.

A whistle or a bugle on the breeze,
as surf strips blubber, nets a drowning trade
of blood-soaked hounded pelt dragged to its knees,
to flippers, fins and salt where skins are made;

as surf strips blubber, nets a drowning trade
reduced to bladderwrack of seagull screams,
to flippers, fins and salt where skins are made
like mares or unicorns in knighted dreams.

Reduced to bladderwrack of seagull screams,
God-traced humanity on every page.
Like mares or unicorns in knighted dreams,
our natures love all animals of rage.
 

* Quote from Tennyson

 

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