the golden blow

we take the pummel since we have to ride

no need to fumble there’s a ready flow

though words are warmer life retains its glow

both here and where we  see high mountain’s side

wake in new green our hearts no longer hide

from the assertion that they truly know

what is their will we’ve seen the golden blow

after the panic and we share the pride

no worse disaster that we care to mark

in daily news or nightly tale of care

can come so close or make our souls to smart

but what’s important is the end of dark

erasure of the hard weight of despair

from where it lay upon each normal heart

no one regrets

emerging from the freighted dark no thought

but that the sky be clear and hands be filled

with all the needful that your warm hearts willed

when in good daylight the first words were caught

by eager listeners who had been taught

that not all prizes went to those best drilled

in the arcana of the freshly-killed

rather to ones who would account for naught

there is a victory that no one regrets

up in the hills when all the gifts are due

then hunters call and do not comprehend

the plainer meanings and the open sets

though when we have been silenced and review

our final forces we find there’s no end

at the commencement

at the commencement all the world was dared

for a small prize a kiss  and then a hope

so that the magic feeling would be shared

not by the ones whose  urgency was feared

as they came running down the morning slope

at the commencement all the world was dared

just so they could with justice be prepared

for honourable parting we elope

so that the magic feeling would be shared

in proper form and time by those who cared

more deeply and were happy they could cope

at the commencement all the world was dared

yet we survive while all the children stared

as new dawn seemed to offer yet more scope

so that the magic feeling would be shared

by all the folk who knew they had been spared

to hold with strength what they could barely grope

at the commencement all the world was dared

so that the magic feeling would be shared

truth's a toy

what’s left unknown weighs down  until we bleat

in rage and fear then leave off being bold

for better nights and stories wiser told

as those with longer practice wait the fleet

leaving the late ones to patrol the street

in angry silence so while it is cold

as the dew rises and the night turns old

the urgent and the foolish still may meet

this is the game of rats that always prey

upon the leavings that once made for joy

cast away now beneath the starless sky

as every denizen flees from the day

in certainty that even truth’s a toy

and honour turns out just another lie