CRONE:

Gone those days, of the playful child,

Of when I ran happily, free & so wild,

Gone those days, of pretty young maid,

When with handsome boys, I once played,

Gone, halcyon days of childhood relaxing,

When moons rejoiced, in youthful waxing.

 

Gone those days, of those amorous lovers,

Of when I promised, to never love another,

Gone those days, when I cradled my babies,

Of all those insecurities, doubts & maybes,

Gone those pregnant days of fertility´s pull,

When the motherhood moon´s belly was full.

 

Now in these days, of age & ancient paining,

When the old silvered moon is gently waning,

Now, when upon my life, I muse & softly ponder,

Upon all that has elapsed & past, I quietly wonder,

It is now I realize & know, that as wise old Crone,

That I shall have no fear at all, on returning home.