The River King
written by: R.J. Poplawski
In Reedmarsh town, where waters wind,
The River King reigns cold and kind.
He dwells beneath the murky streams,
In shadows deep, where sunlight gleams.
Every three years, when twilight falls,
A herald comes, as town recalls—
A figure thin, in reeds arrayed,
With hollow eyes where secrets stayed.
“A child you must gift to the flow,”
“Or face the wrath all parents know.”
“In return, the river provides,”
“Bounty, treasure where it hides.”
Once, defiance in hearts took root,
A town that thought itself astute.
They refused the price, the child’s plea,
And dared to test his sovereignty.
That night, the river waters swelled,
As darkness whispered, danger quelled.
From depths arose the hounds of eel,
With bodies slick, and hunger real.
They slithered forth with deadly grace,
To every home, to every place.
Their eyes aglow, in water’s face,
They claimed their prize, none left a trace.
And with them went the river’s wealth—
No fish, no herbs for pain or health.
No silver gleam in waters clear,
The town now drowned in dread and fear.
For years they starved, the land so lean,
No comfort found in green or sheen.
Then came the day, the herald’s tread,
And once again, the pact was said.
This time they knew, their lesson learned,
With heavy hearts, their eyes downturned.
A child they gave, to river’s might,
And once more flowed the bounty bright.
Now every third year, when moon is full,
And reeds are still, the air grown dull,
The town will gather, eyes cast down,
As herald steps from river’s crown.
A child is chosen, hands are wrung,
As lullabies are softly sung.
The river’s price is paid in tears,
A sacrifice to quell their fears.
And so the waters teem with life,
With fish and herbs to ease their strife.
But all know well the shadow clings,
The dark demand the River brings.
For though they thrive, they also mourn,
Each child taken, each life torn.
The pact endures, the river sings,
A town that serves the River King.
- The River King - October 22, 2024
