One General Best [MultiFormat]
Click on image to enlarge.
eBook by Thomas Wingate
eBook Category: Mainstream
eBook Description: Poetry. Powerful vocabulary, rhyme, rhythm; quotable. Much history. Thomas Russell Wingate, historian by profession, capitalist by conviction and temperament, has lived in Salt Lake City since he left California in 1975. He is very married and rejoices in his posterity.
eBook Publisher: Live Oak House
Fictionwise Release Date: February 2006
[(c)Thomas Russell Wingate Book Three, Poem XXXV] * * * *
Seven * * * *
As I was going through Saint Ives
I found myself by seven wives.
The seven wives had seven sons
Who put to use their seven guns.
The seven guns fired seven shells,
Thereby making seven hells.
The seven lads were put in gyves
Because they'd taken seven lives.
Seven widows once were wives
Before I came upon Saint Ives.
I walked the widows to the tombs
Of what had grown in seven wombs.
I saw the seven upright stones
Age the seven girls to crones.
The seven solemn epitaphs
Filled the house where no one laughs,
And what the seven markers told
Warmed all eyes that might be cold.
Talk of Lazarus and Dives
Was commonplace around Saint Ives.
Seven knotted cords were strung
To keep the seven felons young,
And seven mounds were added to
The yard where only briars grew.
Torches thrown upon them then
Set the briars all a-brenn,
And blanketed the windy down
With ashes of the tainted town,
Evicting hornets from their hives
And me from what had been Saint Ives.
As quickly as the dream was done
My bones knew thunder in the sun,
Boding ill for Orient
And menacing the Occident
With atoms lasting longer than
An Asian or American.
Seven, seven, seven, seven,
Are there oddities in Heaven?
Or will normal human drives
Shrug at what befell Saint Ives?
[1970, 1973, 1996]