She was begat by the Druids,
on solstice moon,
Upon the night, when miracles
occurred in June,
A merry-begot, baptized, by
the cold forest mists,
And upon her cheeks, by soft
dewdrops, kissed.
Upon her life bestowed, miracles
& marvels true,
Moon mandolins beckoned, to
her red tapping shoe,
With Merlin´s blessings, she
danced the nights away,
Down to the seashores, with
her petticoats a sway.
With ruby berried lips &
her moth powdered cheek,
With spider´s web crown, upon
her golden hair sleek,
She sat upon old rock, singing
in the rosy new dawn,
Folk rumours abounded, “Is
this a new Goddess born?”
No comments:
Post a Comment