By Rebecca Pepper

 

As far back as extends the human brain,

Did words by virtue of themselves enchant,

Aligned, symmetric, synchronized refrain,

A verbal song, humanity’s descant.

For lightning does not flash but coruscate,

And water washes, swishes, swirls, and sways.

In rain can reign a crownless potentate,

While cabbages and kings combine in phrase.

But words also destruct, distrust, deceive,

Or, swathed in saccharine, seduce to wrong.

A gift that, like Pandora, men receive,

Invented by cold gods to break their song.

For as bright stars the darkest shadows know,

Spun words may evil raise or overthrow.

 


A lover of all things Anglo-Saxon and medieval, Rebecca Pepper is currently pursuing her B.A. in English with a concentration in Medieval Languages at Regent University. Although she entered college as a proper, Englishy tea-drinker only, two years of studies have shown her the wonderful properties of coffee and its wakeup capabilities. When not scribbling frantically away on her latest research project (usually something connected to Sir Gawain and the Green Knight), she may be found reading or perusing books at the college library.

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