Sunday, March 01, 2009

The Blessing of Unicorns




(Unicorns, the heraldic supporters of the
Scottish Royal Arms, could only be captured
it was said, by a young girl.)

In a rich blaze of green
a girl sits, the golden veins
of her dress tucked between
two neat shoes like ballet
pumps. The sun has burst
in the sky, leaves gleam
like blades, and the grass
curls, hot and hard as flame.
The others have long left
the wood, peer out between
the deep folds of cloth.
No one foretold this scene
or dares to stay inside,
see innocence and magic collide.

5 comments:

Stooshie said...

The national animal of Scotland is a legend. How apt.....

I like this but think you could maybe give it a bit more focus to flesh out your meaning.

What happened to the Ulan Bator rentacrowd?

Hugh McMillan said...

I didn't get where I am today by fleshing out my meaning. Ansel was asking for royalties on his quotes.

hope said...

Stooshie's just jealous that boys can't capture unicorns. ;)

Marion McCready said...

I'm loving the sound repetition in this and the images, especially 'the golden veins / of her dress' - lovely.

Stooshie said...

Hope, there's quite enough horn in my life at present without being battered to death by angry ungulates.