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.

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.

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.

Second Apostle's Letter

I am writing to you once again, hoping that you are taking care of yourself, and my companions. By now, most would have introduced themselves. At the same time, a lot might not have. Take for instance, the Cogil, who resemble the Ancient Fairy. They need to be encouraged by their own kind.

These shy Tenders are hardly ever seen. But I know within myself, that these beautiful Tenders actually exist.

The Great One, very rarely shows himself openly, but, it is very easy to talk to him. By merely talking to Emalf, or one of the Dribydal, or any of the Great One's friends, it will end up, that you were actually talking to him. As Emalf is the closest to the Only One, messages are conveyed quicker.

Each member of the Tender's Company has their own different dialect. Strange as it is, what you think they are saying, is in fact exactly what they are trying to tell you. It's just that you have been too ignorant, to listen to these thoughts before.

That's right!!! I remember now why I was writing to you.

My trip, is going to be longer than planned. I bumped into an old ancestor. Nathaniel Sirrah-Arkey M. Now, that is old. Anyway, all I ask of you, is if you can keep an eye on Garden's well being for me? Thanks.

Until we meet again, the Wanderer.

A Modest Tender

I was born to be gentle, yet powerful;
If only the Ancients knew, what I know.
For I am wiser than the Elder Ancients;
Considering I was conceived a million millenniums ago.

I am the youngest of my relations,
However, I have far more important duties.
They range from assisting the blind with light,
To giving enough warmth to the little cuties.

My closest friends, the Nooms, are also Tenders,
In the sense, that they carry out what I do.
Well Not as much, they can be quite lazy,
But I consider them as my nocturnal shoe.

Only one, is greater than myself, Emalf,
Being the Only One, who created me, you as well.
The Great One has many names and faces.
The God of gods, persuader of the infidel.

Behind a Closed Door

The Wanderer prepared for his trip,
Not looking forward to his absence,
As on his travels throughout the barren void,
He can only think of Garden's fragrance.

The Garden, is never left unattended,
Although the Wanderer is behind a closed door.
He has never seen us at work,
Nor does he know, that we are called the Esor.

He knows of our quiet presence,
Freshening the basis of all growth.
The Wanderer and the Esor's alliance,
Is a powerful, solemn, unspoken oath.

We are one of the many Tenders,
Who care for the Garden's well being;
Keeping it fresh and vibrant,
Appeasing the great All Seeing.

Evil Wisdom

They came from crook and cranny,
Within and around the monstrous Two Towers.
Natas was speaking words of evil wisdom,
Upon the crowd that had gathered in the last few hours.

All forms and shapes of Assistants came to Mephisot,
Forming a large army at the base of it's walls.
They continued to flock for numerous hours,
Shouting answers in unison to Natas's war calls.

Sicta and Verda were made Bosses of the Flyers.
Gnal and Mian were made Bosses of the ground forces.
Natas started dividing both sets into two parts,
Giving each Boss their own strategic course.

Very soon the Bosses were to go on the move,
Taking their followers on a definite course of action.
Natas had all the time in the millennium,
To sit down and laugh at Kindaals reaction.