ATTENTION IPAD USERS!
Apple doesn't like listing me as "Will Shakespeare (poetry blogger)"
to differentiate me from the other guy, although everybody else does.
They took my first book but now won't take new ones. (Go figure.)
Since Smashwords distributes my books to Apple anyway,
just go to my Smashwords author page and download EPUBs from there.
Smashwords provides samples of my books also.

Friday, October 5, 2012

Dogged by the Curse 04

NOTE: This week I figured out a major
plotting problem. As a result, this scene
will be much longer than the others
and I only got a portion of it done.
I'm also playing around with a slightly
different meter for the lines,
and this further slowed my work this week
But I now have a much better idea of where
the story is headed, so the scenes
coming up should have more detail
than the past installments have had.

The town of Vaxen had a single church –
A simple building, not a great cathedral
Built from quarried stone. The local folk
Had gathered river stone and mountain rock,
Materials not valued by the masons
Sought by wealthy Europeans.
More like a villa built around a silo,
Its rounded walls became a substitute
For vaulted ceilings; timbers spanned
The sanctuary, waterproofed with tiles
From local craftsmen – rough but solid;
And barrel windows, framing painted glass,
Provided them a poor man's imitation of
The glory bigger churches took for granted.

A village might be poor but names cost nothing,
So "Vaxen Abbey" gave a sense of pride
To all its people. A stairwell wound its way
Around the sanctuary's outer wall.
Each Sunday, Father Benedict would climb
The steps and slowly toll a massive handbell,
Summoning his charges. They would scurry
Down the street and enter by a heavy
Oaken door embossed with symbols.
A giant cross there welcomed them inside.

It was to this door that Dietrich now came.
He pounded on the door – respectfully,
Of course! – till Benedict responded.
The door swung open slowly and the priest
Appeared. A massive smile spread 'cross his face.
"Ah, Dietrich, my good friend! It's been a while.
How have you been?" he asked. He looked concerned.

A moment passed in silence. Dietrich glanced
Around the church and, seeing no one, asked,
"Father, have you time to spare for me?
A great many questions have plagued my thoughts
Of late. I find myself in need of wisdom
Far beyond my own. Might I impose?"

"Of course, my son," the father said. "I'll always
Make the time to help you find your way.
Perhaps I'll even find some 'sacramental
Wine' the church can spare." He smiled. "Come in."

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