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.