Third Poem of Term 4

Welcome to the Agglomeration

Nature's Enemy

Four chimes of the winter bells and the hills grow still again.
Flowing luminiscence thaws out underground tunnels.
Tepid streams delve into forbidden fjords and the light,
The light, plays tricks with majestic swallows.

Forgotten messages from ancient wells reemerge.
Sleepless beasts yearn for personified snake oil.
Vulnerable young fend the icy shards of renewal,
Renewal, that necessitates strawberry ice cream.

He's a connoisseur, that man with the white gloves.
With grey hair and small arms, the world is his mussel.
He keeps crystals in his pocket, presents for his wives,
Wives who treat him to fiery yoghurt.

The image is perfect - Any aesthete would be satisfied.
A glorious landscape, interrupted only by still air and
wayward missiles. On the river, in a boat, sit two men,
Two men, fishermen, who are attacked by a shark.

It stops rolling. The bells ring, and life returns.
For one.

It's the men who they reject that make them the very best.

Till next time, may you agglomerate all your unpremeditated contemplations