Wandering madness

Because I’m writing seriously (before, it was just an hobby) I don’t have time to visit and read many posts. So I’m not going to take up many prompts. It isn’t so much the writing of the poem or the piece of flash fiction that takes the time, but visiting and commenting on the other responses. This poem, my treat for having finished my daily word count is in response to Jilly’s Days of Unreason challenge. The Harrison quote

“I’ve spent a lifetime
trying to learn the language of the dead”

~ Jim Harrison from Sister in  Songs of Unreason

also unblocked the Secret Keeper’s weekly writing challenge to use these five words, or synonyms, sort of:



Mad in the midst of moonlight,

In the midnight clear,

The poet puts a rowan berry on his tongue,

And as the juice, red as her lips,

Bursts in sweetness and parted clouds,

That clear the honey-haze from his brain,

He speaks the language of the lost.

All the tangled, brambled and briared paths

He has walked since the day she fled

Grow straight and soft beneath his feet.

If he should meet her in the glade

He would know now how to catch and keep

His love, his own, his fleet white hind.




Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

16 thoughts on “Wandering madness”

  1. I see the Yeats influence. Lovely poem, Jane!
    I like the reward of writing a poem, too, but I agree it is the visiting and commenting that takes time. (I’m behind on that now.)

    1. Thank you. Yes, the Yeats came immediately to mind when I added the language of the dead to madness. I don’t mind if no one comments, so don’t feel obliged. I won’t be doing as much as I ought anyway. I’m not going to post to the dverse linky because I just won’t be able to visit all the other posts in return.

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