Chaucer Was Wrong

Chaucer Was Wrong.

by jeremy wyatt

A prophet of woe and mischance?
My big white ghost that watches me.
Flies beside in the icy rain,
roe deer running with us in the dark,
to see me home.

It gave that dread unearthly shriek,
Christmas night in the forest, no fright.
Tonight it flew through cars and frost,
to pause at the window as we drove.
To satisfy itself.

No ill omen, no destiny of fear.
Just a spirit,
finding me a course to steer.
Staying near.

He was wrong,
I doubt he ever saw one.

Tyto Alba

Reviews

[GTVile]

This is really brilliant. You make it work without rhyme and keep it interesting to the reader. Admittedly, parts of it blew passed me, but I still loved it anyway. I love the mix of a rustic feel with a slightly archaic tone, mixed with elements of modern speak, particularly because you blended them all so well. Very good.