This poem is by a friend of mine and is published in The Sandhill Review vol. 12. I had to share some of it. It is titled "Beauty," written by Josh Davis.
She asked for honey,
clover honey deep in the mouths of snow.
The prince kept bees. The merchant took
comb after comb until the prince
stood on the parapet, throat full of thorns.
I like how he makes the familiar story his own. Beauty wants honey, not a rose. "Mouths of snow" is arresting in its simplicity. The prince is angry, "throat full of thorns."
It goes on
She ate the honey, vowed to go
live with the prince among fountains and books,
blue-lit votives, gilded birds, statues that dance
when the moon hooks the night. The prince
never strayed into the morning. They dined
by dim tapers and laughed to soften the quiet.
Fountains and books don't sound too bad to me. (I think that's the point.)
I love "when the moon hooks the night." You know, when it's shaped like scythe and rises early, dragging the night sky with it. Three little words make such an impression.
|John Dickson Batten, Beauty and the Beast|
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