Henry V part 3

As Henry V lies, two large dragonflies

Float wistfully, watching something
From the corner of their eyes
Wondering witch – by what cruel fate
When you awake, from your dreaming state
Her sleeping head forever trapped
Within the fairy lands

As Henry dreams, the dragonflies die
Dragonfly smelling froggy breath
Their lives digested ended thus
[BURP]

Sun sets and sun rise in Henry’s world
Tree shadows move from feet to hips
To neck and back to feet
The headless beauty continues to sleep
Doormice nibble between her toes
Eating grain and grass, ignoring meat
Her body preserved like a mammoth on ice

—————————-

Fleeting, fanciful Sean is son of Dean;
Simon’s son, who was son of Fred
A long time dead
Glittering translutant body and
The sweetest voice in all the lands
Smaller, skinnier, cheekier
And (so he thinks) smarter.

Sean vomits dandelion sap, whilst in flight
Circling the land, dancing the sky,
He swoops into leafe mulch
And brushes past rose, lavender and rosemary
Smelling prettier than any flower
Smiling at the wind, sneering at the sun
He flies on.

————

In the furthest corner of the fairy lands,
Carefully plotted by the Silver Wizard’s hands,
Six large trees, stand in a clearing, proud
And within, twenty one mushrooms, surround
The head of Henry

And in that grove fairy Henry’s head lies
Mascara tears run down from her eyes,
A sight to break Sean’s heart and mine,
The sleeping head of Henry

——————————–

Sean, having frozen in mid air
Stopped to watch the lonely head
Befriended only by her neck
His glittering finger gently prods at Henry’s nose
Shit ! She has no feeling in her toes
She has no feelings in her knees and hips and chest
And for the first time since she was born
The wonders what, if her head would fall
From five feet high unto the floor

——————————–

Translated, modernised and censored by the Prof Langlend from the original scrawlings of the annonymous train poet – The Apologiser.

More from the train poet

The second part of the Apologiser poem is even vaguer than the first – whilst the third is positively surreal to the point where I am most unhappy about ever printing it at all. Never the less here is the second part of the translation… It is assumed that at this juncture Henry V awoke from her slumber, muttering to herself as we was prone too. But the Apologiser decided not to speculate on Henry’s mummerings – she was more interested in the sky. A strange interest for a train poet – the sky was something that the Apologiser never would see – and it must be assumed that the writings came entirely from her imagination. A red and orange sky, and goldern sea Stand there ! Small hands reach the sun; Untouching warmth – the earth is cold But still A walk would do you good Carry on Henry (the Apologiser was often prone to give Henry V sensible motherly advise such as this;) “Carry on Henry Reach greener lands The white sun – white concrete – coal clouds grey This is a cold place Bleak, amoral, desolate And now is a good time to walk away; You’ve seen enough” And so she shivered, and wondered Her ice blank mind Alone in the cold expanse Her hair grew as her considered stride The sky grey blue And sun now mayannaise grey And even the grass was green With knee high dew And as she walked on, the sun started to warm the earth rather than just the sky. And after some time, when Henry V hair had reached her shoulders she started to feel tired. Henry V walked on A scelatol radiator, deep inside Red eyes, hide in chin length hair A grey patchwork cloak, worn and threadbare And on her knee, a developing tear “A welcoming patch of shaved grass seems like a good place to sleep Henry”: Henry V would like to know what grass looks like when seen from below, with your eyes in the grass and your knees in the air. The grass reaches up to her knees. There is a clearing with 21 mushrooms forming a circle enclosed within 6 silver trees. NOTE: This next section was what could only be described as a scrawl to the side of the poem. I would like to make it clear that I do not approve of such marginalia and in most cases would immediatly put an end to it with my large red marker pen. However in the case of the Apologise I have to make an exception. The offending scribble lies below; Henry the V is wearing all the wrong clothes. She must replace her black coat (grey cloak) with a summer dress, of green and yellow. Her boots should be sandles and her hair is certainly not long enough. Her skin needs to be just a little bit paler for our prerapheolite princess. Prof. Leylend