He who was skilled in the
\nWays of the beast
\nAll his waking hours
\nReadily pieced
\ntogether
\nThe ways of each wild forest
\nSoul
\nWho in Winter came forth
\nIn his unreserved role
\nA hunter a venerer
\nKeeper of game
\nConscious of life
\nAnd more of the same
\nInstinctive to have that sixth sense
\nAnd to be
\nA spontaneous fellow
\nClear-headed and free<\/p>\n
Such was this man
\nAs wild as the wind
\nWith insights beyond
\nAnd wholly destined
\nTo perceive and believe
\nAnd to feel and be real
\nIntuitively speaking
\nSo able to deal
\nWith every reaction
\nA mindset perhaps
\nReal concentration
\nWhere pondering traps
\nThe meditative desire
\nThe quantitative need
\nAbsorbed in daydreaming
\nIn a way to succeed<\/p>\n
Out in the forest of Windsor
\nIn Winter
\nFrost decked the branches
\nHoar burned the throat
\nOut with the hounds
\nWith one\u2019s King
\nA true master
\nReady with bow
\nAnd arrow to float
\nThe great park
\nReserved for his private hunting
\nWild deer and wild boar
\nAll proven to be
\nPrized for their wildness
\nInstinctive and fluent
\nAll seeing all thinking
\nAnd wonderfully free<\/p>\n
And there in the shadows
\nA beast of such magnitude
\nA huge stag it\u2019s antlers
\nBowed proud and bold
\nThe King sent an arrow
\nDeep into its marrow
\nSuch was the affray
\nThat before him I rolled
\nSuch agony took me
\nTo places beyond where
\nI had ever been to
\nThe cold crazy fear
\nAnd dying was visited
\nBy an Auric force field
\nOverwhelmed by the spirit
\nAbundantly clear<\/p>\n
He was a keeper a spirit
\nA reaper
\nOf souls all desiring
\nThe skills I possessed
\nI was to give him
\nThe powers I had mastered
\nEvery aspect of venery
\nThat had impressed
\nFor my king I was willing
\nTo explore and discover
\nThe great ragged horns
\nWould be mine and maybe
\nFilled with what was
\nEmotional baggage
\nPerhaps wishful thinking
\nLay ahead of me
\nNaked and lost
\nAll my true powers diminished
\nHearn the great hunter
\nReally no more
\nTo an oak I did tremble
\nAnd try to assemble
\nA noose far from loose
\nCertain death to explore<\/p>\n
Suicide after saving
\nA spell from a raving
\nUndermining the power
\nSuch na\u00efvet\u00e9
\nThe horns thus adorning
\nMy darkly awning
\nThe chains around my neck
\nWould forever be
\nA face clad in greenery
\nGreat antlers ragged
\nRattling chains
\nAs my spirit evolved
\nOnce more a hunter
\nA hunter of spirits
\nThe great Windsor Park
\nA mystery solved<\/p>\n
Many a writer of folklore
\nAnd culture
\nWould pen sheaths of prose
\nTo describe what they knew
\nHerne was the Hunter
\nThe keeper the venerer
\nHe had the acumen
\nAnd he was true
\nTo himself the great hunter
\nOf hunters the true beasts
\nWho take on the wild ones
\nWho murder and maim
\nHe had identified
\nTheir true obtuseness
\nTheir denseness their oafishness
\nAnd thus his game<\/p>\n
To frighten to manifest
\nAnd be a deterrent
\nTurn against, put off
\nDamp the ardour and try
\nUnmatched and unequalled
\nChampion caring
\nTrue coexistence
\nUnder the sky
\nApologetic the penance of ages
\nA spectral wild hunt
\nAs a bad omen might
\nBe seen by the vanquished
\nThe darkly of hunters
\nPerhaps disembodied
\nAnd Wraithlike at night<\/p>\n
Inspired by my friend in The Netherlands<\/p>\n
Jan<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
He who was skilled in the Ways of the beast All his waking hours Readily pieced together The ways of each wild forest Soul Who in Winter came forth In his unreserved role A hunter a venerer Keeper of game … Continue reading