Chased by seven ravens down to the Great Below,
I limp on my broken ankle, surprised at how the soul
grows more beautiful every time the body suffers.
Calling to Mercurius I beg for the way back to light
but he refuses, saying not until you reconcile yourself
with Death, will Mystery drop Her thousand veils.
Poetry Archives
The Goddess and Her Green Man
for Elaine and Vic
Sitting on a fallen tree,
two hearts of gold smile at me
and all the world becomes a song,
as love and bird sing all day long.
Hush listen to their hearts a-flutter,
as memory moves to early summer
where May recalls her happy hour,
a dance amid pale yellow flowers!
And as I spy behind the oak
a pen falls from my poet’s cloak,
for never have I seen such love
that sits beside the tall foxglove!
Continue reading