The battle for Lake Coumshingaun

This is written in the Cinquain Crown form and was composed for a competition. (Friendly competition)

We fought

Our way to you,

Fell in heather and fern,

Pressed through the red pine barbican,

Coy thorns,

 

Above,

Where could be seen

The weightlessness of clouds,

The rain spread heaven’s sore salts, down

Below

 

Wind’s rage

Coveted us,

Pushing, it gave our lungs

Breath, strength to tread the oil and climb

Stone thrones

 

The path

Stung like a horn,

We bled, paused and we bled,  

Shone like amber, and we went on

And on

 

And won.

Lake Coumshingaun,

You lay in the bailey,

Crowned by a dolmen, not saying

A word.