The Egg of Orlin
By Bonnie Mutchler
Copyright 2010 by Bonnie Mutchler
Cover design copyright Joleene Naylor 2009. All rights reserved.
Cover Fonts by Larabie Fonts (https://www.larabiefonts.com/ )
Other poetry collections by Bonnie Mutchler:
Inside the Worm
**********
Alima
Alima, city of the living dead;
City of which all men dread.
City walls all made of lead.
Alima.
Sleeping city, far to the west.
An ancient city, once the best.
The empire fell, ah, like the rest,
Alima.
The buildings fall and shatter,
Can yet help, but a tear to splatter,
To think an enemy came to batter
Alima.
No one falls heir the throne;
So high the brush has grown,
The land has turned to stone,
Alima.
Oh, but can anyone know when
This city, once o'er flowed with sin,
Will be found and filled again?
Alima.
Is there any hope, with sky so black?
Does in my heart the courage lack?
For God, oh God, I must turn back
From Alima.
I turn to run, there is no door;
The walls have closed up like before,
And I shall escape, ah, nevermore
From Alima.
My body suddenly must fall.
Alas, the devil does take all,
And I must sleep, n'er to recall
Alima.
**********
April 1862
'Twas damp in the camp'
The rain fell down
And puddled 'round the tents.
While behind the flaps
Sat white-faced men
Reflecting on events.
And each man there
Shook in his fear,
For they knew when tomorrow came
Each one could expect
A violent death
And a grave without a name.
The wind, it shrieked;
The young boys weeped,
Their faces hid from view.
The sentries stood
As though carved from wood,
Their nerves near cracked in two.
The sarge' made the rounds,
His eyes searched the grounds;
He was weary and old tonight.
The lieutenant was green,
And he lay in his dreams,
Too afraid to admit his fright.
The captain was bold,
Though just twenty years old,
And his eyes glowed when he laughed.
They were blue as the stream
In his favorite dream,
Where he lay with a bonny lass.
It was just after ten
When the aid came in
And the major laid down his pen.
Done were the reports
And a letter of sorts
He had writ to his nearest kin.
He poured from the pot
The brew, black and hot,
Then ordered the boy off to bed.
He silently drank
As he tried not to think
That tomorrow they all might be dead.
Like an unwelcome guest
That disturbs a man's rest,
The pale sun broke over the camp.
Each man with his gun
Shivered 'neath the sun
As the morning loomed drear and damp.
The air was still
As over the hill
Came the enemy ready to fight.
To the bugle's tin blast
Each man bid his past
Goodbye and goodbye and goodbye.
**********
Arramin
"Off with the wind,"
Said Arramin
And the gray horse tossed it's head.
They rose up high
Into the sky
Where the sun was glowing red.
They floated free
Above the trees
And the battles fought below
Were naught to them,
For the deeds of men
Seemed petty, small and low.
He felt no need
To pay them heed,
Those things of flesh and bone,
For he gazed through eyes
That were flawed with pride
And his heart was cold as stone.
Then the great god Merse,
Of the universe,
Sent for man's guardian.
To the castle Stroud,
Above the clouds,
Flew the haughty Arramin.
He stood there proud
And he would not bow
Before the mighty godhead.
Merse searched his soul
And found it cold,
So the great god struck him dead.
**********
Blackstone Castle
Can you feel it?
The pulsating of the room
Like a heartbeat,
He was murdered here, you know.
They say his spirit never rests
And none dare spend the night
Within these walls.
But of course you're too sensible
To believe this foolishness.
This grave-like chill is the result
Of architectural design
And lack of central heating.
What was that?
A moan, it sounded like!
Of course, you're right,
Merely the wind in the eaves.
You know, they never found the cause of death.
Some thought it odd, those two small wounds
And too, there was no blood left in his body.
Rather strange, isn't it?
But it's growing very late.
It will be dawn soon
And really, I must be going.
Here, let me kiss your neck.
**********
Climb Upon My Silver Steed
Come, climb upon my silver steed,
The wind is blowing in the trees.
The moon is hanging, pale and cold;
The darkness waning, the night is old.
Dawn waits, impatient, o'er the hill
Listening for the first bird's trill.
Come climb upon my silver steed
And let us ride with greatest speed.
No, I'll not climb upon your steed,
Though you should beg upon your knees.
There is no plea that you could make,
No promise give nor vow forsake,
That might in any way inspire
My heart to burn with passion's fire.
I'll not commit such foolish deed
As to climb upon your silver steed.
Then I shall climb upon my steed
And follow the road where e'er it leads.
I'll turn my back upon this place;
Forget my heart, forget your face,
Forget the only love I've known.
I'll match your icy heart with stone.
And though tomorrow you may weep,
I'll far be gone upon my steed.
Then climb upon your silver steed
And follow the road where e'er it leads.
Perhaps to you my heart seems cold,
But not to a real man, were he bold.
But hush now, for I hear the gate,
Who could it be at this hour late?
If you value your life, my lord, pay heed,
Ride quickly
on your silver steed.
No. I'll not fly upon my steed.
I'm not the kind to kiss and leave.
Though you might hint I'm not a man,
Still better than a thief I am.
I will not leave you here in danger
From some mysterious lurking stranger.
I beg you now come fly with me
And we'll escape on my silver steed.
Do not climb on his silver steed,
Fair daughter, pay your father heed.
A plague on your head, Stuart MacDunn,
And a curse to every other one
Who bears that name or wears the brand
Of your family crest upon his hand.
'Twill do no good for you to plead,
Step down or die on your silver steed.
I'll not step down from my silver steed.
Death calls to you, old man, pay heed;
Put down your sword and let me pass
Or be prepared to breathe your last.
For love of lady, I would go;
I'd leave you alive and gladly go.
I have not the heart to make her grieve,
Stand back, old man, from my silver steed.
But the old man would not pay him heed.
He grabbed at the reins of the silver steed
As he thrust the deadly blade of steel.
He watched as the young man's life blood spilled
From his chest, where the wound was gaping wide.
The young maid climbed up by his side
And held him close while his blood flowed free
As they rode away on the silver steed.
**********
Devil's Child
In shadow's gloom the evening falls
Beneath the empty sky
And time is but an endless stream
That runs forever nigh.
If in thy lonely bower e'er
I come to thee again,
'Twill be because I've heard once more
The whisper of thy name.
'Twill be to purge thy faithless heart;
To lift thy angel's face
And brand it with the Devil's mark,
Once hidden by thy grace.
For thou art sure true Satan's child,
Warm fleshed, with heart so cold;
And as a vampire feeds on blood,
Thou fed upon my soul
And I once loved, as all men love
The beauty of thy smile;
I saw thee not, yet loved thee more,
For all thy wicked guile.
I took thee from thy father's house
To keep thee for a while,
Within these lonely castle walls,
Upon this desert isle.
Condemned art thou, forever more,
While I sail off to sea.
No man will ever save thy soul;
No man will set thee free.
So, devil's child, in thy prison,
Save thy evil breath,
For if I come to thee again
'Twill be to bring thee death.
**********
Gherla
There's a terror that roams the city tonight;
A terror men do not see,
Just hypnotic eyes while he sucks them dry,
Then silently he flees.
He's shrouded in mist and the night world's his;
He's cursed by a hundred names.
Still he stalks his prey, and is gone by day
To the land of smoke and flames.
In the distance a yelp
And a cry for help;
The first victim is through.
He bares his fangs,
The alarm bell clangs,
Too late for victim two.
Then three and four,
How many more?
Too many now to count.
True to the curse,
It only gets worse
As the casualties quickly mount.
Then bring your bells,
Your book of spells,
Your cross, your wooden stakes.
In cold daylight,
Though filled with fright,
We'll catch him 'fore he wakes.
Drive the stake deep
While the monster sleeps,
And brand him with the cross.
Speak the white spells
And ring the bells;
Once more the demon's lost.
**********
Guildenchrist
I am Guildenchrist,
Mightiest of the mighty.
My hand is my sword,
My knowledge, my helmet;
My wit is my shield;
My cunning, my armor.
None may defeat me,
For I am defender of
The Golden Throne.
I am the strength of the weak
And Deliverer of the Guild.
**********
I Do Not Want a Hero
As I was walking through the woods
I chanced upon a tower, high,
And in the doorway sat a maid
And I could hear her cry,
"Do not send me a hero
Who's always gone from home.
I do not want a hero
Who lives his life to roam."
I hid behind a hedgewood tree
To watch the pretty maid;
She gazed at far horizons
Where the clouds hung low and gray.
"I do not want a hero!"
She shouted at the sky.
"Do not send me a champion
Who'll only make me cry."
Impatiently she shook her curls,
Her hands were on her hips;
Her little mouth was in a pout
As these words poured from her lips:
"I do not want a hero,
Who's caught up in every fight.
Just give to me a simple man
Who'll stay at home at night."
Then in the distance came the beat
Of hooves flying 'cross the mead;
A hero reigned up at the door
And from his charger leaped.
He drew the maid into his arms;
She trembled as she sighed,
"I do not want another man,
My hero's home tonight."
**********
Jamie of the Glen
Come all ye lads and lift your cups,
A toast to the best of men,
As they march down the road behind the drums
And Jamie of the glen
They heed the call, the battle cry,
That is sounding once again
And on foot and horse they rally 'round
Fair Jamie of the glen.
He's brave and bold, like the men of old,
and he swears he'll always win,
For he only fights for what is right,
Does Jamie of the glen.
For a Start's reign, a war he'll wage,
As he marches with his men.
He'll take his sword and he'll take my heart,
Will Jamie of the glen.
But when our brave young lads come home.
We'll round about and then
We'll proudly follow the banner, bold,
And Jamie to the glen.
And we'll dance all night 'neath the golden moon
While we drink to our gallant men,
And I'll gaily roll me 'round about
With Jamie of the glen.
**********
Michael
Once, long ago, in the moonlight's glow
Came Michael to the glen,
With hair of gold and blue eyes, bold;
The handsomest of men.
Hung a golden sword from a silver cord
Slung 'round his slender hip;
In his heart a song played all day long
And a smile was on his lips.
Then the 'chantress c
ame, dressed in a flame,
And she danced in the greeny glen.
The sparks fair rose from her tiny toes
As she began to spin.
A web she'd spun when at last she'd done,
And helpless Michael lay.
She loved him there in the cold night air,
While the fairie's music played.
As the first pink light attacked the night
A mist rose from the ground.
When Michael woke, the spell was broke;
No longer was he bound.
The web was gone and the fairie's song
Was lost without a trace,
But his heart felt cold, for he'd lost his soul
When he'd gazed upon her face.
He stayed all day, longing for the maid,
There in the ferny glen.
The darkness rose and the moonlight glowed,
But she ne'er came back again.
Through day, through night, through dark and light,
Like an empty shell he stays.
He just sits there, while his golden hair
Turns gradually to gray.
**********
Morul
'Twas a wind that sighed
And shook the sky
When Morul came to life.
He stood for good
And brotherhood,
For justice, truth and right.
With sword in hand,
He roamed the land,
Putting Evil to its flight.
His armor glowed
As he bravely rode
Through valleys dark as night,
Up mountain sides
That touched the sky,
'Cross desert's burning sands,
Through forests green,
Past frosty streams,
'Cross rolling, barren land.
Then late one night
'Neath pale moon light,
Evil staggered in the shade.
Morul raised his lance
As the great steed danced,
And he held his foe at bay.
But the King of Hell
Cast a deadly spell
And Morul's blood turned cold.
It raced through his veins
Like a fiery flame
As it burned into his soul.
His heart beat fast,
His eyes were glassed,
And he trembled in the dark.
Morul screamed in pain
As it froze his brain,
But deep within a spark,
Flaring to life,
Cut like a knife
Through his unconscious haze;
Faith brought him back,
With a mighty slap,
The Egg of Orlin Page 1
