Tales From the Trees
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
The Egg of Orlin
From The Mist
From The Pit
**********
Along The Watchtower
All along the watchtower
Sobbed a northbound wind,
Searching for her lover
Who won't come back again.
Though the night is empty
And the hour is late,
She shouts at the bulwarks
And shakes the lower gates.
**********
Asylum
Like a drained and empty shell
Shattered on the rough hewn stones,
Vessels drained of scarlet blood,
Crushed and battered are my bones.
What is it they always say
About the lost and damned
Seeking an asylum
In a cold and bitter land?
Had I any reason
To suspect what lay ahead,
I never would have ventured
To the world beyond the dead,
Where nightmares come together
And there is no hope nor tears,
You can stay there forever
In the darkness of your fears.
Bang the drum like a hammer,
Clang the loud and brazen bell,
Rip the blade, see it slither,
Not a moment lost in hell.
For agony's your brother,
And insanity your friend.
And nothing ever matters
When you fin'ly reach the end.
**********
Ayleon
Who spoke the truth?
Not one among us,
Though we swore the truth to tell,
'Til the whispered
Winds of Ayleon
Caught us in her mystic spell.
O' she held us
Without compassion,
Dangling breathless from her chain.
Her dark laughter
Was like the thunder,
Her voice was soft like the rain.
She was beauty,
She was beguiling,
She was passion, dry and cold,
And her flame burned
Like eternal ice
That consumed both heart and soul.
Long white fingers
Beckoning gently;
Satin lips, so sweetly wet;
Her silky eyes
Kept her mystery
Ever tangled in her nest.
She was wonder,
We duly marveled
At the dangers that she dared.
She did not come
At our whimpering,
And she came not at our plea,
But she bound us,
All together,
In our hopeless beggary.
**********
Beauty And The Beast
She gazed at him with baleful smile,
Assured her beauty would beguile,
How many times her slightest whim
Had been fulfilled by such as him?
She tossed her head, her golden curls
Fell 'round her neck, as white as pearls.
She gave a playful little laugh,
He slashed her body right in half.
**********
Beneath The Twisted Tree
Beneath the twisted tree he rages
And his cries are like the wild hurricane
That tears his heart, never to be silent;
No peace does any part of him contain.
He is burning, but none may save him,
He's roaring in the madness of his soul,
And the fury of the wild sea is his,
As violent as the storm, out of control.
He is screaming, but do they hear him?
There are none left to listen anymore.
All the sad destruction man created
Stands grinning, in possession of the shore.
**********
Demon's Dance
The demons dance around the blaze
In jubilance at Satan's praise,
And Evil grows without restraint
While night bird's scream out in complaint.
Cold and dark, cold and dark,
That describes a demon's heart.
Where's the hero, where's he dwell?
The hero's lost and gone to hell.
Where's his spirit, where's it rest?
His spirit's locked in icy death.
Who shall come and who shall save
The hero from an endless grave?
There's none to come and none to spare,
For demon's flames are everywhere,
And death shall hold him in it's grip,
And demon halls shall be his crypt.
**********
Freedom's Call
He is wild,
Burning like a firebrand.
Touch the sky,
Trying to make a final stand,
Sword in hand,
Backed against the shattered wall.
Like a ghost
He can hear sweet Freedom call -----
And she's whispering in his ear,
Keeping back the flood of fear.
Black birds reel against the sky;
He knows the time has come to die.
He is lost,
Lying on the battlefield,
Body crushed,
Ragged sword and battered shield.
Sunlight fades,
Another bloody day is done.
He'd have lived
If he'd only learned to run.
But he hears sweet Freedom's song
Beating in his heart so strong.
And she whispers in his ear,
Keeping back the flood of fear.
And he's dieing for her love,
He is dieing for her love.
**********
In The Misty Woods
In the misty woods she stands in autumn,
Whispering words of love to a warrior bold.
Fresh from battle he has come to hold her,
To share her warmth and feed his hungry soul.
The water trickles down the walls behind them,
Sparkling jewels that tumble stone by stone.
Leaves of red and gold are gently swirling,
From branches stretching barren like a bone.
In the ruins are a few pale, fading flowers
Twisting through the cracks where the dark weeds grow.
Time has come and left us here with nothing,
Just spider's webs and legends of long ago.
But sometimes water still may trickle down,
Sparkling jewels that tumble stone by stone,
Along the wall behind them where they're meeting,
Mythic warrior and his lady have come home.
**********
In The Willie-Womp
In the willie-womp at midnight
Sat the grinny-gaul a gaggling
While the moon was sailing madly
'Cross the blackened sky above.
Then there came the terra-mock-uh,
To the water he came drinking,
Almost dead and quickly sinking,
Crawled he to the water hole.
The mastie-maul was grimly howling
From the hills, far distant northly,
So it sent a shiver racing
Up t
he backs of all who heard.
Then the grinny-gaul was silent
And the terra-mock-uh frightened,
Strangled on the brackish water
He was slurping down his throat.
"What was that?" he whispered softly,
In his deep voice, coarse and raspy.
The grinny-gaul said, slightly gaspy,
"Was the call of death we heard,
For the mastie-maul runs swiftly,
And his height is ten and fifty,
And his teeth are long and twisty,
Yellowed, sharp and snapping wild."
Then they shuddered in the fernies,
While the night pressed on them darkly,
Cold and shivery the mud was
As they trembled at each sound.
The mastie-maul, roaming wildly,
Down the hills, far distant northly,
Crossed the plains of Pallit-Mortley
To the willie-womp at dawn.
Then the grinny-gaul awakened
All his senses badly shaken,
And the noises he was makin'
Woke the terra-mock-uh up.
There before them was the creature
Towering high, his grisly features
Such as would have scared the screechers
Out of twenty yarmen's growth.
Alarmed, the grinny-gaul was sobbing
And the terra-mock-uh bobbing
Up and down among the fernies,
Stumbling to regain his feet.
Then the mastie-maul looked awe-struck,
Bulbous eyes wide, turning he ducked,
Racing for the hills of Lemluck,
He went screaming all the way.
Then the grinny-gaul grew silent
And the terra-mock-uh gave vent
To the shock they both were feeling
In the willie-womp that day.
What did happen? Who's to answer?
Fear is such a wicked dancer
That she makes us all be cowards
When there's nothing there to fear.
And the danger's in the thinking,
Not the doing, not the drinking,
Not the howling, nor the bobbing,
It lies, laughing, in the heart.
**********
In The Foxhole
There was death all around us,
The stench ate our souls,
But we drank the mud water
And ate the slop cold.
With field jackets for blankets,
We slept in our clothes,
Dreamed of home and warm fires
And loved ones to hold.
We watched as our comrades
Went down one by one
And despaired that we'd ever
End what we'd begun.
With our hearts sad and empty,
We prayed to our God,
Though we thought He'd forgotten us
Alone in the mud.
**********
Iseldan
In poverty they lived and died,
Cruel want was always at their side.
To labor long, to scratch and pitch
To fill the coffers of the rich.
But still they met in mud huts, bare,
To speak of prophecies and prayers.
Then close upon the end of year
On a wary night, cold and clear,
As many gathered 'round the heat
Behind them came the sound of feet.
They turned to see a stranger there
With tattered cloak and silver hair.
In his hand he held an orb
At which he stared wholly absorbed.
The mystic gazed into the ball,
His dark face shrouded from them all,
He spoke in quiet, even tones
Of things he'd seen within the stone.
"A night unbroken by a star
Shall bid the stranger from afar
To cast his lot with iron men
Who fearless stand at Evil's den.
Let you, who seek him, clearly hark,
For he shall bear the Raven's mark
Upon his proud and noble brow,
And he shall swear this solemn vow,
That death shall come to all who stand
Upon the side of Iseldan.
The night loomed black as witch's cloak,
No shred of light it's ebon broke,
The trees, their branches bare and stark,
Clawed like demons at the dark.
The wind screamed like a banshee's howl
And dead things in the shadows prowled.
Then as the night grew darker still,
A silhouette rose on the hill.
On fiery steed the rider stood,
His face well hidden by his hood,
His cape around him billowed wide,
His sword hung heavy at his side.
Black death rode, grinning, with him there
And all who saw him quaked in fear.
Across the westerland he roared,
Over hills, across the moor.
His eyes were fire, burning red,
The Raven's mark was on his head.
And as he swept across the land,
He gathered up a rabble band
Behind his banner, they did blend,
While by his side death did attend.
Up to the walls of Karadran;
Up to the castle of Iseldan,
The black birds screamed, their voices coarse;
A mighty army issued forth.
Out of the gates, their numbers swelled;
Out of the gates and into hell.
Throughout the halls the echoes rang,
While weak men shook and brave men sang.
Cruel Iseldan sat on his throne
In regal splendor, all alone.
Outside the walls the battle raged,
In combat fierce, thus engaged,
Were men of iron, men of steel,
Who fought with courage and with will.
While broadsword clanked and hammer cracked,
With bloodied hands, with faces blacked,
They swore and cursed and battled on,
Throughout the night and into dawn,
'Til all the men of Iseldan
Lay crushed and broken, grains of sand.
Black clouds obscured the rising sun,
The cold wind raged, the thunder drummed.
Fields of lightning slashed the dark
And burst the castle walls apart.
Like a never ending tide
The rabble army swarmed inside,
Prepared to meet a fresh onslaught,
But there was no one left unfought,
Except a withered, broken man;
The last remains of Iseldan,
Who cowered as the last blow fell,
And tumbled, screaming, through the veil.
No glory left, just crumbled stone
And carrion to claim his throne.
**********
Lambie
Come, my little lambie,
To the slaughter you must go.
The night is black and inky
And the clouds are moving slow.
The wind, it is a harpy,
As it shrieks a dead man's curse.
The thunder rolls and rumbles
'Til it seems the sky will burst.
I've something in my pocket
So, my sweetness, come with me,
We'll find a quiet place alone
And I will let you see.
Your curls, they are so pretty,
Your eyes so gently blue;
A jewel among the heavens,
I'm so pleased to be with you.
Come, come, my tender darling,
For the night is waning fast
And time's becoming precious.
Ah! Here's a place at last!
The alley's dark and lonely,
r /> Our shoes make funny sounds
As they crunch the tiny rocks
Strewn o'er the muddy ground.
The rain upon the black bricks
Slithers down in shining trails;
The wetness just enhances
All the rotting, evil smells.
My blood, it is a hammer,
Pounding, rushing in my head.
It nearly sends me reeling,
And everything is red.
My hand steals to my pocket,
To the blade I know is there.
She is standing right before me
With her lovely golden hair.
Her lips of rosy honey
Smile tenderly at me,
Her gentle blue eyes twinkle
As she thrusts the dagger deep.
The shock that I am feeling
Mingles pain and disbelief.
I hear her footsteps echo
As she heads back for the street.
**********
Little Goblin Feet
Did you hear the slippy,slippy, slap, pitty, pat
Of little goblin feet along the stony path?
How they slithers and they writhes
In the darkness of the night,
While they gaily take delight
In their victim's deathly fright
At the sound and at the sight
Of the goblins and their flippy, floppy feet.
**********
Lost Love
Hear me; hear me on the night wind ---
Moaning, crying for my lost love.
What was it about his eyes,
Pleading sadly like a trapped dove,
Made my heart break when I saw him ---
Made me whisper in the darkness ---
Made me free him without thinking
Of the future's emptiness?
**********
Melon Goo
"I'm really going mad!" she said,
"I have a melon for a head!
It's ripe and mushy, filled with goo;
It doesn't work like others do."
He looked at her in great surprise,
Shrugged his shoulders, blinked his eyes.
"Well, well, my dear, what can I say?
I guess it just turned out that way."
She stamped her foot, hands on her hips
And pursed her tiny pinkish lips.
"What kind of answer's that?" she squalled.
"You really are no help at all!"
"Just what is it you'd have me do?
I could scoop out your melon goo,
But you'd be left with empty head!"
"I guess I'm doomed," she sighing said.
**********
Ode To Spring
Spring's a subject done by every poet;
They've all used the title, don't you know it.
So here's my very own ode to spring