Root Deity Poems.

Born

Perpetual Dawn

 Cry

The tears of us all

 Eyes

 As weather blown storms

 Weather blown storms.

 Call

 An echo Alone

 Drown

 With the ebb and the flow

 Found

 The all of forlorn

All of forlorn.

Fly

 For one day we fall

 Eyes

 The love of us all

 Shine

As perpetual dawn

Perpetual dawn.

As all of an Owl in the Ivy I pause, am I late?

By the lichens and moss of the church wall

By its black Iron Gate.

Parting the living from path between graves

Where nettles stand tall gort flower wild grace

And felled is the Yew lay broken disgrace

As unkempt as I as I pass through the gate

Whose creak wakes the guardian utter of fate

As all of an Owl in the Ivy I’m late.

We’re second hand books on our own

Our future our binding unknown

If we’re found

No longer alone

Embraced

A moment of home

We’re a story unfurling to grow

From a second hand book on it’s own.

She lives in a high room

Horizon far away each day

She crys with the new moon

Silver tears

A way to fly away

No locket for to stay

For a poppet rather frayed.

She strives for the lost caused

St.Jude his grave lay over grown

And she wanders the sea shore

Shares the tides yet tides they know

Nowheres ever home

Everthings on loan

Just a pocket for to stay

For a poppet rather frayed.

We’re pools of wonder

Deep as eyes

Ripple moment

Mesmerised

The gaze of you and I does shine

As Dragons in the sky.

Wish wing to wing

Embraced in flight

To furthest thunder

Lightning bright

To gather all of passions might

As Dragons in the sky.

Cast deep our yearn

As undertow

Of weeping grief

All moments known

To ever share the love thats grown

As Dragons in the sky.

A pale moon on my river day, dream I felt a ripple stray, a wave I ride upon a tide, to share the tears held deep inside.

Our hearts, may they rain, upon our land of pain, where we pray, on the edge wing of the day.

A whirlpool turns I’m all but drowned, lost within the vacant crowd, how can love be so lost un-found, abused and hailed un-sound.

Our hearts, can’t they play, amidst our world insane, where we pray, on the edge wing of the day.

If I could lay just hand in hand, upon a beach of time cast sand, where rivers reach the ancient rhyme, to claim me yours and you as mine.

Our hearts, may they reign, above our world in flames, where we pray, on the edge wing of our day.

A Murder crowned the tops of trees

Winter bare as yet to leaf Just lazy flew but one or two

And mild their raucous sombre

They eyed my eye’s

As tasty morsel’s

As I eyed theirs Of Jet black portals

Feather gowned these shadow mortals

Thus paid heed gave token

A Yggdrasil seed In Mossy purse

Touched blood stained red From Blackthorns curse

To go about my way no worse

As I as living carrion

Away then Murder all but one

Who landed near Took gift Then gone

Though cousins of her came to clatter

And seven was their number

Of what I leant I can not tell

As silent as a wishing well

Where midnight tolls a lonely bell

Beneath the water frozen

With feather of the black I write

A wing tip moment as the flight

Beyond our mortal lifes delight

Of harmony both dark and light

Without each other known as born

There is no dusk

There is no dawn

As murder crowns the trees once more

This spring to make their rookery.

Upon a beach so far beyond

Where lost the sea though tide high strong

I lay upon my funeral pyre

As yet unlit to linger on

All agonies of grieving loss

Are foundlings ‘midst this dark dream cast

Where pleading screaming whispers quake

As pale as ghosts the breath escapes

To ceasing of the hearts last drum

Whose skin must surely break

With yearning eyes to crisp scythe moon

Wane crescent sharp though full her tune

As hidden most by scant worn cloud

A drawn across her face to shroud

Yet witness turmoil wraith beneath

Glimpse harsh as brittle sound

A glint of hope though first flame flickers

Joined by others nimble fingers

Come host of flames as breeze it quickens

Burn fiercely brightly

Venus risen

I lay there still

Awaiting.

Hope is such a tender fragile flower

When all seems lost we nurture every hour

Until the frost of winter covers all

And the petals wither fade to fall

Yet faiths the rising of the sun

Upon the blossom yet to come

Trust is such a blooded thorn held clasp

Yet to the rose we’re drawn to clasp

When left alone the beauty lasts

Upon the moments as they pass

As faiths the rising of the sun

Upon the blossom yet to come

Truth is change as Bluebells gently ring

Bringing memories of how its always been

I hear them softly on the wind

As Spring eternal calls again

And loves a Snowdrop in the dawn

That grows for you and I as one

And faiths the rising of the sun

Upon the blossom yet to come.

From the bus I saw…

A lone pine tree

The gentle rise and fall of the prehistoric land

Mole hills in a modern cemetry

And a vacant plot

All of which I shall visit.

Epona.
As a wounded Otter
Yet cradled in the arms of Epona I can but dream to die
To all but drown within her tender tears
And nurtured gently against her breasts
I pass to ever flow upon the ever tide
Knowing she is always by my side
With the light of the Moon within her eyes.

A tightly twisted knot of darkness

Hides the reason deep by earth

Roots that feed from tearful seasons

Overflowing Well of dirth

Moonrise draws the sap of sorrow

Moon ebb wanes yet sorrow grows

Habitually the tree remains

A Hedgewytch of the old hedgerow

Bitter sweet to fruit from blossom

Better left to rot unknown

On branches thrown in poise of torment

Shadows cast its tale of woe.

Flits within the corner eye

And disappears not to be spied

You search in vain your search it hides

It’s grin you feel to your surprise

It’s hard to catch or rationalize

The glimpse of nothings there

A boggart be its name for sure

It came in through your open door

And likes your cupboard under stair

And there it’s homely cluttered lair

And when you’re all and fast asleep

Out it slither tiptoe creeps

To muddle up your gentle dreams

And loiters till you wake

You rise at morning rubbing eyes

There’s something here or there you cry

A laughing sure you heard no lie

A feeling you can’t shake

All day it hovers just behind

The back of somewhere in your mind

You’re sure you must be somehow blind

To what or isn’t there

This elemental darkened sprite

Doesn’t like the sun bright light

And feeling better in the garden

Courage grows and senses harden

Then a twinkling glint idea

I’ll tidy out my under stairs

And later in the darkling eve

You find the boggarts taken leave.

He stood most naked in the high street

Upon a pedestal they placed him

Over looking passers by

The statue of the naked guy

Some one sprayed him with rude words

Others dressed him in girls clothes

And one night when all alone

Someone took part of him home

He must have seen wars come and go

Naked stood against the foe

But wear he meddle no not one

For how would someone pin one on

They fixed him up from time to time

The statue of the naked guy

Some passers by would ‘vert their eyes

Not me I’d wink I’m sure he tried

And then they took him clean away

A few complaints I’m told they say

I couldn’t bare it took his place

At once arrested in disgrace

I asked the policeman why but why

I am the ghost of the naked guy

He didn’t seem to find this funny

I went to court it cost me money

And now a sign there in his place

A simple notice Vacant Space

For sale this empty pedestal

Please apply to prudes at council.