Aethel Wallpaper Gallery

Poetry

The Garden

The following poems are randomly selected from part A of the Garden series.

If you are patient, the whole story may appear. There is a doorway on this site, that will open to the poetry collection, both in context and complexity.

Seeb

In the Hierarchy of the Garden,
We the Seeb are one of the top.
Having the dual role of midwives,
Plus keeping guard on the new crop.

We work on a seasonal basis,
Whether the Traveller is here or not.
We actually assist in the fertilising,
In a carefree seasonal trot.

We are truly rewarded well,
For the special skills we use,
Either preparing the fertility ritual,
Or just giving the enemy the blues.

When the season is out,
We return home with our treasure.
The Traveller often pays a visit,
Joining in the Feast of Pleasure.

Battle Cry

We are the "All Ferocious of the Fierce,"
Warmongers, strategists, destroyers of evil.
Known only as the Niknogard,
Seen only in the guise of a humble weevil.

The Dihpa are seen as a succulent dessert,
Believe you me, we all have a sweet tooth.
Our motto, for the Royal Tenders Guard,
Is, "Destroy all evil, uphold honour and truth."

To hear the battle cry of the Niknogard,
Will deliver a blow to the heart;
To the good, 'tis the blow of uplifting;
To evil, 'tis the sound of Death's Cart.

"Destroy all evil, uphold honour and truth,
Sever the roots, burn it's liars,
Uproot all evil, and as for proof,
We will behead, Nothing's Squires."

Foreword (The Garden)

Garden is a small shire, within the boundaries of the sinister Nothing. The people, both animated and mortal, keep their shire clean and beautiful. They also protect their shire from natural foes. Life is usually calm and tranquil in this serene shire, known as Garden.

Nothing's infamous tyrant, Natas, wants most, if not all, of Nothing under his total control. He usually leaves Garden alone. That is until he gets bored with his demonic means of entertainment.

The actual land mass, Nothing, is surrounded by a shallow void; namely "Nothing's Void". To the northern tip of Nothing, across it's Void, lies the Ancient Lands. It was there, were the Ancients would wander (and wonder) about. I say used to; as they were all wiped out by an unpleasant plague. The inhabitants of Nothing, were protected from this horrid plague by the sheer vastness of Nothing's Void.

In the following poems and letters, you will have the opportunity of getting to know most of the Inhabitants; most, not all. You will meet the Wanderer, who with the use of his TRIPPER (Time Rectifier in Parallel Places, Envelope Runner), visits the Ancients.

A fact, which you might find startling, is that Garden, Nothing, and their inhabitants actually exist. There is a piece of the Wanderer, in all of us. What's more, Nothing and Garden aren't that far away. Everything has it's good with it's bad.

Everywhere you look, there is a fragment of Nothing in what you see.

The Wanderer's Wish

If I died in your arms,
Where would you lay me?
If I needed to be helped,
Would you come and save me?
All these questions that could be asked,
The answers, I need never know.
For they are locked away,
Only you know how high the roses will grow.

The colour of our roses,
Bloom in burgundy and blue,
Thorns of hatred are blunt;
Isn't this the way we grew?
A fragrance beyond all encounters,
Deep colours like blood flow,
Into our hearts, deepening this love;
Only you know, how high the roses will grow.

First Apostle's Letter

Once again, the Traveller sets out on his endeavours. Tripping back in time, to walk amongst his ancestors; the Ancient Ones.
As he has done thousands of times before, the Traveller leaves Garden under the Tenders control. The Tenders are the Travellers companions, when he is in Garden; Garden's armed force and doctorate when he is not.

Although the Traveller only Trips for a short period of time, he is sometimes away for ages. Thus, the infidels, invaders, and plain old foe of nature are tempted to enter Garden's domain.

Inevitably, these unwanted beings infiltrate Garden's boundaries. Havoc breaks free. War finally erupts. Battles, both great and small, are fought with ferocious fury.

But never fear, all will be restored. The dead will live through their young. The conceived will be born. The invaders will be banished.

Yes, the balance of life will be returned.

How do I, know of all of this, you ask?

Is it not obvious that I am he? The God of gods Apostle. The Wanderer. Yes, I am he. The Traveller

Nothing's Inhabitants pt 1

Here I stand in a garden,
Looking over a vastness of Nothing.
My friends stand close by,
Searching it's horizons for something.

We enjoy our own company,
As we know each other well.
Our domain is rarely challenged,
Excepting for the occasional cell.

Seasons change in favour for the foes,
Who march on Nothing's void.
Increasingly closer these villains approach,
Taking our sustenance into the void.

My friends shout, a shout of defiance,
Informing me of our Wandering Friend,
He visits on a weekly basis,
Delivering a blow to our foe's evil trend.