A poem I wrote in the Rhyme Royal poetry style. It is a commentary on the Irish epic Sweeney’s Frenzy
King Sweeney flies from broken branch to tree
His feathers fall behind him soft and gray
Those visions sunrise bright, they fade, they flee
The cursed forgetting, mem’ries drift away
His talons grasp at dreams in dimming day
A punishment from Ronan, holy saint
That Sweeney cries laments beyond restraint
The clan now spies the King plucked bare, they hunt
From nest, to rest, a mercied end they seek
But mem’ries fail, King feathered elegant,
Now scratches earth and shoves grubs in his beak
A treetop’s fall to muck, mighty to meek
The miracle of wrath, Saint cursed his name
The wind steals feathers as he sings his shame
For pinioned wings can’t stall a fall from grace
Can avian become redemption’s son
Will Sweeney find again his rightful place
Or hollow bones will perch him partison
A curs-ed man to stay forever shunned
Sweet vengeance from the Lord has deemed it so
Now Sweeney’s mind grows soft and wits go slow
The king knows, why mem’ries fall like feathers
Remembers wrath, spear pierced Ronan’s most dear
Now soar from Erin’s shores, set free from tethers
Mad Sweeney, how you’re blessed to disappear
You catch the wind, find peace, and persevere
Old life is lost, redeem yourself by wing
From broken branch to tree flies Sweeney, king.