THE MERRYBEGOT:

Conceived in forests & birthed in old woods,

Garbed in moonbeams & Druid´s white hood,

Raised by nature & the wisest forest´s seers,

Knowing only love & nothing of world´s fears.

 

Begot by fronded mother, while making merry,

Beneath spring´s blooms, of the blushing cherry,

With roses on her cheeks & locks of autumn gold,

Her warm tinkling laughter, cracking winter´s cold.

 

Taught magic poetry, of myths & legends very old,

Songs from Atlantis, by Bards, sung & quietly told,

Schooled in ancient healing, of roots, bark & herbs,

Lending ear to all stories, of beast & feathered birds.

 

Told secrets by the wind & the cawing from black rooks,

Whispered words of love, from streams & babbling brooks,

Rehearsed in the dance of sunshine & steps of silver moon,

She is the lover of December & the bride of summer June.

 

Pretty fair Merrybegot, epitome of all known womanhood,

Within her breast beats, soul of forests & heart of all woods,

Found in the Maid, the Mother & within the ageing Crone,

Deep within her being, is living, life´s real authentic home.