Senan Of Somerset

The Velvet Crown

My spirit guide lies between the trees
Chewing cud of sweet sweet grass
The carefree face of summer pace
Of peace and cooling breeze

His brothers all around him sit
Their crowns of regal velvet grow
The winter dress of dusky grey
Now shows the summer golden brown

I pause to look into his eyes
And wonder at his furrowed brow
Are future thoughts concerning him
As autumn days will come

Will my crown be fine and broad
My mane be thick and warm
And are my shoulders strong enough
To bare this heavy mark of office

But more than this, my spirit is all
As resolute to death it must hold true
For soon this soften velvet branch
A crown of thorn will be

The roaring echoes and boiling blood
And shouts of warring torrent wild
The victor calls the prize is mine
The looser will stagger his wounds too great

But all this wrath is hidden now
As they sit amidst the cooling trees
And chew and chew this sweet sweet grass
Their heads adored with velvet crowns

 

 

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