|
|
 | | From: | Bill Orr | | Subject: | The Ballad of San Luphel | | Date: | Wed, 12 Jan 2005 22:10:16 GMT |
|
|
 | THE BALLAD OF SAN LUPHEL
In the village town of San Luphel,
you can hear a wistful song
and the tinkling of a vendor's bell,
while his cart he pushed along.
Church bells sounded now and then
from the church just down the street
while in each shanty market bin
was drink and food and treat.
Rising high above and into the sky,
was a snow capped mountain peak
The mountain slept and to the eye,
was a thin and smoky streak.
It rose above and curled away,
a fearsome giant at rest.
Who was to know that on this day,
so tranquil now, a demon would divest.
At first there was a rumbling sigh
and dust rose from the street
while up above a plume shot high,
a blackened hand the sky to seek.
Fire belched out a crimson red
and a cloud of ash spewed round
as a flaming crack ran down the head
and split the mountain down.
Then deafness came from a sonic boom,
as the mountain top exploded
Rocks and slag, and burning mass
were hurled for miles fire-coated.
Flaming rocks rained on the town
and ash came down like snow
while buildings burned as flames came down
in the village town below.
The town below was a burning mass
as people mobbed and screamed.
as globs fell down like molten glass
in a terror no one had dreamed.
There was no place, no safe repasses
to shield them from the horror.
Three hundred milling, running masses
and no refuge to borrow.
Some that could ran to the shore
where burning boats would stand.
A man was struck by molten gore
and lay writhing on the sand.
Glowing lava flowed down the slopes
consuming all things in its path.
It fissured out in flaming ropes,
like reaching fingers of a demon's wrath.
Buildings collapsed and houses burned
before the oozing, glowing, lava
while ashes heaped and the sea was churned,
steeped and boiled like jellied guava.
Poisoned air that choked the lung
spread out, killed all of them that breathed.
and smoking, glowing , with ash among
now lay resting there bereaved
There was no more, just silent bleak...
as the eruption began to subside
The monster cloud was drifting meek
and flames just shrunk and died.
And here survived no living thing
just a shard with a ring suspend,
and there upon...a vendor's bell...
that tinkled in the wind.
Bill Orr
--
http://home.earthlink.net/~billbernice1/
Includes "Poems of the Sea"
|
|
| | From: | conan | | Subject: | Re: The Ballad of San Luphel | | Date: | Fri, 21 Jan 2005 01:46:14 GMT |
|
|
| Very good poem, Bill,
Thank you for sharing
Conan
"Bill Orr" wrote in message
news:cfhFd.5234$pZ4.982@newsread1.news.pas.earthlink.net...
> THE BALLAD OF SAN LUPHEL
>
> In the village town of San Luphel,
> you can hear a wistful song
> and the tinkling of a vendor's bell,
> while his cart he pushed along.
>
> Church bells sounded now and then
> from the church just down the street
> while in each shanty market bin
> was drink and food and treat.
>
> Rising high above and into the sky,
> was a snow capped mountain peak
> The mountain slept and to the eye,
> was a thin and smoky streak.
>
> It rose above and curled away,
> a fearsome giant at rest.
> Who was to know that on this day,
> so tranquil now, a demon would divest.
>
> At first there was a rumbling sigh
> and dust rose from the street
> while up above a plume shot high,
> a blackened hand the sky to seek.
>
> Fire belched out a crimson red
> and a cloud of ash spewed round
> as a flaming crack ran down the head
> and split the mountain down.
>
> Then deafness came from a sonic boom,
> as the mountain top exploded
> Rocks and slag, and burning mass
> were hurled for miles fire-coated.
>
> Flaming rocks rained on the town
> and ash came down like snow
> while buildings burned as flames came down
> in the village town below.
>
> The town below was a burning mass
> as people mobbed and screamed.
> as globs fell down like molten glass
> in a terror no one had dreamed.
>
> There was no place, no safe repasses
> to shield them from the horror.
> Three hundred milling, running masses
> and no refuge to borrow.
>
> Some that could ran to the shore
> where burning boats would stand.
> A man was struck by molten gore
> and lay writhing on the sand.
>
> Glowing lava flowed down the slopes
> consuming all things in its path.
> It fissured out in flaming ropes,
> like reaching fingers of a demon's wrath.
>
> Buildings collapsed and houses burned
> before the oozing, glowing, lava
> while ashes heaped and the sea was churned,
> steeped and boiled like jellied guava.
>
> Poisoned air that choked the lung
> spread out, killed all of them that breathed.
> and smoking, glowing , with ash among
> now lay resting there bereaved
>
> There was no more, just silent bleak...
> as the eruption began to subside
> The monster cloud was drifting meek
> and flames just shrunk and died.
>
> And here survived no living thing
> just a shard with a ring suspend,
> and there upon...a vendor's bell...
> that tinkled in the wind.
>
> Bill Orr
>
>
> --
> http://home.earthlink.net/~billbernice1/
> Includes "Poems of the Sea"
>
>
|
|
|
