t h e * q u e e n ' s * d r e a m (wolf part six)

In heavy cotton sheeted queenly bed
bolstered upright, by a dream’s logic
sleeping in white silk corset
and venetian mask
hands busy, knitting, endless threads
long strands made with joy
stretching out the bedroom door,
bright morning light
peers round brocaded windows
pauses in her knitting
and hauls upon the threads.
through the door,
as threads expand
a woven white wool cargo net
with ermine cloaked white booted man,
maybe Ardent himself ,inside.
this gentle trap is pulled towards
ends up on edge of queenly bed
and kisses sweetly shared
through woven mesh
hands grope and push
against this holy bag,
enjoying brief touches
and brief defeats
as one player or the other
leans forward or leans back.
one kiss stays harder
bright laughter rings
and ermine turns to wolfen gray
queen constrains the net as sport
and bursts in joy as wolf rips forth
and then sleep falls from her eyes

"Did ma'am sleep well,I heard a noise"
a maid enquires, from round the door
" Oh very well, and by the way
has the Black Sheep returned today ?"

“they say quite soon ,your majesty,

But this letter came for thee”

Letter snatched from hands

Then deocorum reestablished

Maid succesfully pretends

She did not see

That look

Of hopeful desperation

But,

Having read ,and memorized, the letter herself

Mouths the words

In vicarious and adoring passion

As her mistress reads

So where you live the cold n'er bites
and clear and frosty are the nights
and neigh’bring wolves no cause for fright ?
May I visit you tonight ?

Can I bring warming drinks or furs
Praise you in verse to make you purr
with ideas of what may occur

between us, now, or deferred ?

Do you mind if we converse,

Of day’s events ,not be perverse

Maybe later the reverse

But words, yes words, of course at first.

Can I take this time to find

Some joyful trinkets in your mind,

The nerves that snap,the ties that bind,

How you are cruel, and how kind  ?

 

We seek that speck in this process

Which makes it so right to undress,

To forget our compulsion to confess

That perhaps we left behind a mess ?.

Is approval needed for such acts

If you smile, then I with same react

Word’s time has gone, the same track

Is followed to its final act.

She puts the spent letter down and sighs

Then, through the chamber door

Sees her new god and

bites her lip

in unsuspected ,welcome and surprising pain

Maid servant

Having kept a secret well,

Disappears into thin air

And she seizes upon  him

Oh how she seizes him

Right royally

She seizes him

Ardently

a l l * a t *s e a (wolf part five)

Shite goes the day, the wind cuts deep
St Jude be at our prow,
Young Ardent steers his Barque Black Sheep
Through icebergs and fog’s clouds.
Hoarfrost on rails, on rigging, sails,
Ice covered by salt rime
The witch wind blows, ship onward goes
Will landfall be in time ?
“Cap’n , is the cargo of our sloop
Pannikins of Gloucester soup,
And from fair France fresh cantaloupes,
And antique dresses, ribbed and hooped ?”
“Oo arr, me shipmates that be so
And as diplomatic missions go
This one really is top hole:
Shadow gifts for the queen of snow.
So keep eyes skinned, or we’ll be lost
Hands off that bloody albatross,
You know what happens if you do
Or shall I read “the rhyme” to you?”
(Short interlude while the rhyme is read,
Then ship sails on, crew now in dread)

 
Silence, wind drops, from all around
Come distant waves and other sounds
Not just the seas’ hissing surround
But harbingers of solid ground.
Creak of rowlocks, splash of oars
A boat is lowered and heads for shore,
With melons, soup and other stores
(Some I mentioned here before)
A crunch as boat strikes frosted sand,
Then boat is tugged up on to land
Ardent takes spyglass in hand
And wonders what is next at hand
The mist parts somewhat and he sees
On distant headland a figure stand
So still and stern in icy breeze
Her furs part, she waves a hand.
She speaks; the wind steals half her words
Ardent watched rapt yet cold,
As round her looms a reindeer herd,
His heart is lost; he’s bought and sold.
Gifts are piled up on her sled
As inland our hero is lead
To where the queen has her abode
In this far land of ice and snow.
“So you’re the Captain of Black Sheep?”
Her voice into his heart did creep
And by accent, lust did touch
Pure Canuck with a touch of Dutch.
“Many say they’ll come to see,
Myself in icy Majesty,
But, Ardent, you have won the race,
So is there beauty in this wild place?”
Ardent, smiles and his reply
Brought forth from Queen a happy sigh.
“ Although the ice is fair to view
It cannot be compared to you,
Though both the ice and your sweet eyes
Do shimmer, shine and flash pale green,
Only one has passion’s fire inside
And they belong to you, dread queen.
And though the winter here bites deep
It cannot begin to compare
To how I have been bitten, sweet
By frosty jewels hung in your hair.”
“ I expected nothing less”
Says the Ice Queen to her guest
But you have caused me some unrest
So, on Queen’s Command, undress
He takes his clothes off, and she picks up
, A wolf pelt from her store
And wraps the stunned explorer up
And guides him to the floor

“and so we’ve met,I now begin

to wake the wolf beneath your skin

with incantations and old charms,

turn flesh to fur within my arms

pursuing the passions of my kind

I open locks within your mind

Your cage door drops, new smells emerge,

You sense the hunt and feel the urge

Blue to yellow turned,eyes ,senses wake

New games to play and pacts to make

Now ,my changleling, you will whore

Yourself to me,,freedoms’ reward”

Some kisses done, a spell is cast
And to the Ice Queen’s bed
Where once a man had stood before
A wolf is lead instead.

The witch awakes first,and sated, stares

 

She strokes his hair, and finds shes cares
Then man awakes, and sighs “what a dream
as wolf I loved this queen”

Memory snaps into place / a thousand nerve endings and memories call him to full waking shock / I did ? With her ? As what..gasps, gasps again…sees no hatred in the instigator, just calm and deep memory

What new pleasured tortured sin

is this, to take you in another’s skin ?

hang expectations, use your damned charms

let me back between your arsm

Gently gently, Ardent, friend
For this may kill you in the end
Too many times in my wolf’s pelt
And you will sadly lose yourself

Ardent listened to her speech
Walked to his Captain’s clothes
And threw them far out of his reach
and holding pelt he rose

Her amused voice then held a whips’ crack

Don’t be a fool, take your clothes back,

You wear this pelt ? you lose all choice

To think or speak in human voice.

I like you human, I love the gaps

and cherish your uncertainty

 Between your feelings and yours acts

Though will not now say you’re dear to me

Take up your clothes, that skin is mine

 another love left it behind,

You may wear it when I chose,

Your human doubt becometh you

Ardent raged , heard what was said

And , returning to the Snow Queen’s bed

Whispered to her icily:

As Wolf I felt such certainty

There was no maybe, but or if

No good manners, just pure greed,

Caught in midstream by feral myth,

There was no doubt at all, just need

No wasted energies, no fuss

Direct engagement to wild lust,

Just teeth, just tongue, just gaping jaws

Bequivered skin and grasping paws

Slavering ,on heat, afire

No manners to ask you how it was

Just white pure skin to quench desire

And as to why, well, just because.

The Queen smiled as Ardent spoke

And laughed as if at private joke.

Dear lover, lupine thoughts’ no use to me

I desire your odd humanity

If you can woo me, if you can swear

That I am the dearest love to you

Maybe the pelt I’ll let you wear

If to me you can be true

I am no country girl or whore

To tup behind some old barn door

These are my lands you walk upon

One fingers’ click and you’d be gone

But I may let you, after feasts

wear his skin and come to me

To treat me as you would a beast

And leave behind humanity

But after, lover, shed his hide

And hold me ,read me poetry

Do things I’ve only heard described

In books read from across far seas

Ardent looked again and saw

 

Behind the icy queen’s façade

a fearless girl’s heart yearn for love

to stay here would not be so hard.

a r d e n t (wolf part four)

Meanwhile in warmer climes

But less distance than you think

Quicker  than a poem spends

To take you there

There is

Ardent by name,

And thus cursed by doting parents,

Also bore a younger brother’s duty

Always the second,

A fixer to his elder’s grander schemes,

carrying off with ease and cheek

what allotted tasks befell him.

Child of green downs and treetop pranks

Took all trials in his stride

Knew his place in England’s climate

Sure within himself

That winter followed summer

As butter followed burns

As love follows loss,

And, in faith within himself,

Sought out ,

following a brothers scheme

though not his footsteps,

Outfit an expedition ?

No sweat.

Cached supplies and base camp set ?

All done

By barter, jaunty manner, fun..

Two ice proof barques obtained

Black Sheep and Endeavour named

No guesses which one Ardent gained.

While nobility aimed for lofty goals

The northwest passage

Trade and empire

And so on and so forth

Blah and blah blah-blah

The black sheep dodged the limelight,

Providing discreet rendez-vous,

With salt beef and limejuice,

Fairly bartered inuit winter clothes,

And once, for one whole week,

In glorious charivari

produced

Girlfriends, wives and whores,

Sweetest surprise of all for all explorers.

While the Black sheep rocked

Ardent took the watches

And grinned at his successes

Way beyond the call of duty.

Still a playing second fiddle,

here in icy and liminal lands,

Out here on the perimeter,

The unsure and seasonless

The icy and the jealous

the true wilderness,

he became a wild player.

m a r r i a g e (wolf part three)

And as it always always goes,

In warmer lands or in the snows

Once Lust is slaked, then something goes

From Lovers within their afterglow

Find their dwelling full,

Not of bedroom love

or newly minted  heirlooms, memories  of play

But a brood of hairy snappers

With to-die-for eyes

Beseeching milk and meat,

Making their own chaos

Shredding the fragile truce

Between Queen and her Lover, Wolf.

Child-cubs grow

Flicking between wolf and human

Wheedling and whining

To whoever gives them what they need.

Children of ferocity and lone grandeur ,

Show no mercy to one another,

You can’t use magic to feed your kids

So Witch becomes mother,

Magic redundant

Feeds Cubs food and love

And so much more

Wolf–as-human fights

Human-as–wolf

When wolf: no love, just find them meat

And watch them fight

Protecting the strongest:

Wolf training wolf.

When human,

A heart full of  love

Cuddling, cradling,

Play fighting

Sleeping with the runt

And feeding it the choicest scraps,

Grooming and combing

All their young pelts

As Witch mother works white boned fingers

To an even more white boned look,

She loses the leisure to alert herself

That Wolf and Human fight,

No time to renew

Lust’s spells to bind him to himself

And his gorgeous and forbidden

twofold self to her.

Wolf, rubber-banding fast

Between mind and instinct

Between skin and pelt

Sees witch, less as lover

And more of an annoying den-mate,

Who howls in her sleep

And leaves her bones in other’s beds.

But human irritation

habitually brushed off lightly by a good night’s sleep

When seen through wolf’s fight and flight,

Became ferocity itself.

And without a word e’er being said

Parents’ rage make child-cubs cower

And matters come to dreadful head

as mum and dad fight for their power

Teeth are bared , a wand is raised

And as one both scream “behave”

And then a deep shudder is felt

As human wins, wolf drops his pelt.

Hurls wolfskin into witch’s face

And turns and walks out from that place,

I’d have cut it off you, if you’d stayed

She screams, in rage, I’ll see you flayed

Wolf knows nothing but his need to go,

Cue distant footprints across the snow.

t h e *f i r s t* w i t c h (wolf part one)

Marked by strangeness

At an early age

this slip of a girl who,

when offered choice

Would put hot pepper on her tongue

And jump into a freezing lake

Rather than eat sweet apples

At her father’s fire and hearth,

Prospered

And grew tall like the reeds

Marking edges

Of treacherous peatbogs.

This child ,marked thus by all, yet loved,

would run to the deep woods,

As does a mink to ducklings,

with barracuda smile,

and would stay all day,

and night if allowed,

though always forbidden.

When rescued daily,

a term she so detested,

She would be found

Ensconced up trees

in their forked crooks,

Ash, rowan or thorn her favourites

Shouting to her spurned deliverers below

“The moss is damp tonight

So guard your crops ‘gainst rain.”

And this child would be right again.

She saw adult dreams

In flocks of starlings

And, shocked by these unveilings,

Whispered this unknown darkness to her pillow

The stallions and bulls

In steamy byres and barns

Echoed these unknown oddities

And she put these intrusions by

But they lingered on

In crevasse and crevice

Waiting.

And all the time her skin stayed white

And all the while dark threads were spun

And all the time she looked for dark

And all the time lived in the sun

One year, aged twelve and three quarters

In deep winter

Being helpful, as she thought fit

She went and found

A flock of sheep

Snowbound, buried and lost to all.

Fur wrapped and ragamuffin

She floundered waist deep

Till nearly dead

Through exhaustion and drifted snow

To bring, as she thought,

This mundane news

Told her tidings

Collapsed

Three days asleep, comatose, near death

Then up as again

As bright and sharp as an icicle.

Wonder at this child soon spread

And all the while long threads were spun

And of this child were stories made

Between the darkness and bright sun

Aged thirteen,

Puberty

A mother’s talk

Well, several mothers and an aunt,

And a generous bag of several ancestor’s bones,

Crackling faintly when carried in

Deerhide cushioning ancient dust,

Warned of bleeding

All the rest.

Food for thought

A feast for the body

A spark to revelation

Starlings spun their patterns

Cubs spawned

A thousand salmon spawned in an instant

Elvers, leverets, ermine kits

Were conceived

Lived lives

And fell to dust

All in an instant in her mind

Bulls and stallions

De-mystified around her

And fire first crackled between her fingers tips

At this unexpected reaction

Her pack of helpful women

Panicked and fled

Leaving her

Smouldering ,deserted

But ,surprisingly, not downhearted

And all the time her skin stayed white

And all the while dark threads were spun

And all the time she looked for dark

And all the time lived in the sun

Some wise villager

As in wise as in wisdom

Not wise (poor useage)

As in possessing power

Offered a solution

This wildling child could live

On wood’s edge

And guard the flocks

At night.

By day

Human kind could guard her

And all the time her skin stayed white

The seeds of her wild power begun

As the woods gave her their dark

Some wilder threads were also spun

But in the darkness of her room

These wild threads escaped the loom.

t h e * f i r s t * w o l f ~(wolf part two)

Who was the first ?
Ah just some wolf,
Wandering and slavering
Curious as to what made that smell
And found out
A trap


Who found him first ?
Ah just some young witch
Fickle in her new mastery
Curious as to possibilities
Who emptied out
That trap


Who trained him first ?
That same young witch
With fire, with food: starvation’s work,
And regular beatings
Made wolf’s skin become
His own trap


Who showed this work to us?
Can’t you guess ?
Skittish and always at her side, alert
To any nuance in her breath
Now fear alone
Is the trap


When did he do it ?
What, lick her hand?
And ankles too, if I heard alright.
They say she liked it, more than the moon,
Wanted more.
Her honey trap


She did what ?
Before ambassadors
or rival claimants for her land
Enthroned, bare thighed, she showed off wolf’s tricks
This is my power, she purred,
Any questions ?


How far did she go?
You dare ask that?
Her bestial lust, leading on her spellcraft
Brought forth wild things from her
Great spells
To build a trap


And how?
Blood magic, fool!
She mingled both their bloods
At some propitious time
Happy in her witch’s work
Her trap


And wolf?
Became part-man
With cock as well as tongue and hands
Needed training to pass as human
Needed words
A creaking trap


And witch ?
This first Frankenstein
Fell like a fool for what she’d made
Doted on his appetites
Forgot wolf’s training
Forgot the trap


And then ?
Bit the hand that fed, of course
Learned words from books
That gave him spells
Tore her heart’s flesh, escaped
Left her trap


Don’t stop. This witch ?
Flesh Healed alone
Inconsolable without the wolf
Built her happiness
Piece by piece
Now flown her trap


Became so feared
Ice Queen but aflame
Splendid, unloved and deadly
No displays of sensual bestiality
To terrify white ambassadors
Just pure power crackling
Her own trap


Half human wolf
Thinking lightly in deep woods
Pondering his perculiar philosophy
Thinks, Teeth take her, I’m of her pack
And blithely returned
To his tormentor


And then ?
Oh you are so dense.
This dark tale ends with Northern lights
With comets, full moons, and meteors
And a warning for the curious:
There are cubs !

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