By now, you know the drill… In today’s offerings, we have two rather disparate references: Homer and Harry Potter.
In the Wine-Dark Sea
Somehow, they escaped my tight grasp;
My head was swimming,
And in the scarlet current
My words were swept away.
I pulled hard against the wine-dark waves,
But for every stroke or kick,
The words seemed to flow
Further and further downstream.
I stopped my belated struggle
And watched you scoop up my words
From your safe position on the shore
To examine them for yourself.
I hoped they would slip from your ears
As easily as they had slipped through my lips,
As a fish in its air-burdened death struggle
Leaps from the fisherman’s net.
But my words had lost their slippery touch
And in the end, they were easy to understand.
You knew their meaning at a glance
And so, you guessed the truth.
The Wall and the Key
I am proud of the wall I built–
Tall, sturdy–imperious, even.
And it is high. Oh, is it high.
And from atop my castle wall, I see everything.
I see the invading hordes crash against it–
Wave after pointless wave, breaking their strength.
I see stealthier intruders looking for back gates,
Some fixing grappling hooks to the ramparts,
Only to be released into free-fall halfway up.
Siege towers, battering rams, war ladders,
The magic of word, emotion, and caress–
My wall has withstood all affronts.
There is only one weakness, a single point of entry.
A small, unremembered door in a forgotten corner.
If you must know, the key is in a familiar bottle.
More Than Truth
In vino there is veritas;
Truth flows freely from the glass.
But if the truth you wish to throttle,
Drink instead th’entire bottle.
Tonight, I go to battle with the bottle.
Needlessly, I might add.
But it’s a challenge I cannot resist.
To test my body, my mind,
Against the veritaserum in my glass.
I have crafted the lock well;
It is durable and it has been tested before.
But we will push its limits tonight.
How many glasses, I wonder,
Until the lockpick is not even necessary.