Forgotten Ground Regained
Two Riddles
Originally published in Withowinde 98, p. 24, Winter, 1993.
Riddle #1
Once I wept alone, water flowed over me;
silent company I kept: coot and moorhen.
Later soft grass soothed me, summer fields:
weapon unwilling, wand of man's magic.
Now brown with age, but my brothers with me,
locker's lumber, I lie unused and waiting,
friend's name on my face · fetches back old memories.
How once I cut gracefully, men caught their breath ...
Riddle #2
I am a strange thing · sent to amuse:
My life is short, a summer's length.
I am born hard and shiny, shaped and moulded by man.
Helping as I can, at his hand I suffer.
Helpless myself, man berate me.
Form forbids me, not free to go where he wishes.
Swiftly I race over the grass; my shine leaves me.
Soon heavy beating, bold treatment from men,
makes me soft. Strange -- I grow a beard.
My fate is relentless -- no reprieve in my age --
ceaseless battering · brings about my doom.
My cover splits, comically bouncing,
thready entrails · thumped to the hedge;
nettle receive me, no longer of use.
Now, this summer night, name me, your victim,
born to be beaten, but bringing you pleasure.
Copyright © Ian Greenwood, 1993. Reprinted with the permission of his family.
Answer: bat and ball