In Perfect Solitude
In Perfect Solitude
Before my eyes
Winter's hand
Clutching my flesh
Savouring my defeat
Return me now
To the earth
From whence I came
I shall return.
In perfect solitude.
See how the raven
She does hide
From the cloak of
The coming cold
But strength has she
And inner sun
Her battle cry
Will not be silenced.
In perfect solitude.
Fight it all away,
There is no escaping
Perfection
On frozen wings
My libations to you
Cast aside.
In Perfect Solitude.
~Liam
Rain Dance
On rainy days wet and chill
I sit upon the windowsill
and listen to the rain beat
a patter-dance of small feet.
The floods engulf the house-lane,
and brooks run down the window-pane.
Ducks from Pond in wet feathers
waddle in their favorite weather.
The flowers bend for water-weight,
and puddles pool around the gate.
I like it when the world bathes
and sun is covered by rain-wraiths:
Those heavy clouds of grey slate.
Yes, rainy days I do not hate,
for I am warm, dry entire
as I lounge before blazing fire,
laughing at the world outside
with its grey flowing water-tide.
The earth at peace; I at rest.
This be the weather I like best.
On rainy days wet and chill,
I sit upon the windowsill
and listen to the rain beat
a patter-dance of small feet.
~Eadha Deora
Grey
Grey.
The chill of waves: crash! fierce storm.
The dusk of house: fire burns warm.
The cry of loss: lonely heart.
The rain of tears, when pain starts.
The rising flood: fear drowns all.
The going tide: sea's cruel call.
Look in your eyes: soft and sad.
The aching soul, with sighs clad.
The blinding fog: sea unknown.
The fading life: time has flown . . . .
. . . gone . . .
Grey.
~Eadha Deora
In Between Song
As the dusk becomes the dawn
That in-between time
Where faeries make their revels
and dance upon the lawn
In threes and fours
Standing line and line
glitterbrush and thorn
Until the sound of little feet
Awakens the sun
A brief meeting, Sun and Moon,
But soon they grow tired
of midnight wilds
little fee folk slumber
Amongst the tall tulips and lavender
The moon, she kisses them goodnight,
Farewell, dream of the in-between,
Dawn until dusk,
Until I have all but awoken...
~Taina Faerystar
Faeries
Wings the color of a springtime garden
Hair as lush as the green, green grass.
Spider silk and gossamer robes,
With firefly combs.
Dancing in the moon's silver light
Until the sun shines his face,
And there is light.
~Andrew Lindow
