Talkin Tarn

Stumbling forth much cider-addled

swaddling-wrapp’d in Christmas cheer,

festive tunes beat marching rhythms

sung by luteous fuzz-blurred moon.

Light our tallow-faced meand’rings.

Light our way to Talkin Tarn.


Hill-top guardians, black-limb’d stanchions,

iron giants, arms outstretch’d,

spitting fizz, bright brittle crackling

arcs electric, purple hiss.

Walk the line of skeletal monsters.

Walk the line to Talkin Tarn.


Snow lined hollow, sleepy sheep all

fallow-buff like sugar lumps

fuddle thrown, sweet huddle-muddled

piled in china, white as bone.

Trudge our way in caravan.

Trudge our way to Talkin Tarn.


Bristled tines, pine scented arbour

succours snowy lunate shore,

underboot, soft-footed needlings;

seriatim rendered mute.

See the glist’ry icy vista,

see the myst’ry. Talkin Tarn.


Moon-loon madness overtaking,

dancing arm-linked can-can craic,

thwacking echo, snap-snap bull-whip,

ricochets deep down below.

Risk life’s brittle carapace.

Risk the kiss of Talkin Tarn.




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