Talismans

Gamboling bombadils in
lathered boots cross acres
of marsh and wet woodland,
thin and goose-throated

they boast of ancient lineage
and croak in mad dactyls.
Crack-pated mermen dream
naked on green stones

of girls leaning gold braids
from high turret windows
with coronets for eyes
and breasts like white birds.

The basilisk collects our
tendered coins of passage.
We cross the bridge and march
into havens and kingdoms.