Category: Recycled Poetry
Journal: The Nest of the Bower Birds
Date: Began on Beltane Eve 2008, completed today
Swan Lake
Tonight I’ll slip away with you
And escape into the woods.
Together as one,
And one with the wild,
To become whatever we would.
We’ve come upon a sacred space
Where our helical paths entwine.
Bonding in braids,
On the eve of Beltane,
We are lovers, redefined.
The Piscean Moon shines across the lake,
The owl in the tree sees each move we make,
The spider in the tent weaves our solemn vows,
Everything was leading us to right now.
Hmmmm. I think I recognize a couple of people here.
ReplyDelete