Well water

For the dverse prompt. I wrote a first poem, and it was too long so I wrote another. The first poem below is the quadrille, the second is same theme but just a poem.

 

I dip a bucket fill it full

Of dancing, silver mirror water,

Ask the silent fairy’s daughter

For a seeing, bright or dull.

 

In the mirror-silver deep,

I see my love upon the field,

Lying on his broken shield,

Willow, clouds and blackbirds weep.

 

*

 

I dip a bucket in the well

And fill it full of silver water.

On my tongue are rowan berries,

Sailing clouds a story tell

 

Of wishes granted, curse stones cast,

Of mad hares leaping in the meadow.

Yet are these clouds of future dreaming,

Or are they clouds of dreaming past?

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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.

38 thoughts on “Well water”

  1. You had me at /I see my love upon the field/lying on his shield. You delve into the mystery of life, inhabiting the now, pocketing the past, hoping for a future.

  2. It’s “future dreaming” or “dreaming past”? Fantastic! The mirror sheen gives images and insights. And things are taken away as well, I think.

    Some folk have well water in my area. I believe it is appreciated as a source of health and of magic. More so of each than what comes out the tap.

    1. You got the references and I have a feeling you prefer the original poem. It’s my preference too. Water, mirrors and magic go together, reflecting futures as well as the present. Maybe only the past. Who knows?

  3. I prefer the first poem, it strikes a chord quickly with the reader. I like the mysterious/fantasy feel to the poem.

    The second one is quite nice as well. It’s amazing how they both came out.

  4. Beautiful, heartbreaking music here. The touch of magic, the need for water, the yearning to see her love, A granted wish, the birds, the sky, the willow, and her eye are wellsprings back again, but only thirst. Incredible dear Jane.

    1. I think it’s like learning to draw before you start on your abstract masterwork and call yourself an artist. If you can’t hear the rhythm and the sound of the words, I don’t see how you can call yourself a poet.

  5. I’m not sure which I prefer–they do seem like separate poems. Maybe different parts of one of your books? I do love your description of the ancient water divining in the “dancing silver mirror water,” and there’s a lovely rhythm there, too, but I like the clouds and rowan berries of the second one. (Of course.) 🙂

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