Bound by a hedge of spiteful briars
in the spellbound heart of a night-time forest,
a rose lay hidden from men’s desires
for a hundred years, as was promised
by a jealous fairy in a fit of rage,
who imprisoned the palace in a thorny cage.
Young men who came to press their suit
were plucked and speared like ripened fruit,
stuck fast until they perished.
Prick of needle or prick of thorn,
for faeries, what’s the difference
as long as the princess is kissed by a prince?
Kim M. Russell, 2017
Kerry asks us to put the ‘mini back into the Weekend Mini-Challenge’ and return to the option of form poetry by writing a poem in no more than 12 lines. This weekend, our frame of reference is ‘Binding with Briars’, which is taken from the final line of the poem ‘The Garden of Love’ by William Blake.