all 5

all 5 know where she /

he / they / it / i / must go to

become green / loose / whole

.

haiku

sacred too

candles waiting to

be lit circling magic gathers

light shadows lengthen

.

haiku

lemon grass

like grass pushing through

concrete

fears

poke through

so i

brew tea from them too

.

haiku

convergence

time

to reclaim

mine ~

5 forms

fast moves

through forest

through

stars

through

shores ;

raw

.

haiku

power

witches are hard

core

soft

flesh

itchy with magics

inner

eye

on

full

.

haïku

.

p.s

all women are magic

all women are witches

so

let them be

blessèd be

man!

lapsong

home : ginger cat on

my lap , lapsong suchong in

my cup : can’t spell , but . . .

.

haiku

draught : burnt deep

root fruit tea dotted

clotted garlic oil swirls dropped

tap tapping on top

.

haïku

.

n.b

add a shot of chili

hot chocolate as remedy

for any habitual melancholy

.

quaff quick or spill slow

over skin

rub it in

til burnt deep

then sleep

and more

i am

made of light

moss, sound, time, dirt, tidal drift

silence

willow~boned

.

haiku

rEVOLtion

i should have tasted

my menstrual blood. too late now.

was my scared rite

.

haiku

lady of Avalon

.

i dream i’m drowning

it’s an old one

but it no longer owns me

now i’ve come home to avalon

.

thoughts of rain awake me

the lady comes again for me

from across the levels blurred in

a banging of silver bangles

a breathing womb of grass and apples

a trembling of limbs still stuck in the suck

of muck-moist land that’s been drained for ages

until it rains; and it rains

.

she is ages older than me, yet young

she speaks an older tongue, voice

fizzy with dialects of scrumpy cider and musky crusts of ancient cheddar

echoes dance from dank chalk caves

wassail wassail wassail

and so it was

and so it is

.

i dream her lovely face

etched upon a sorrow of cloud

heavy as half a pound of moonlight

light as a fragrance of lemoncakes

i dream her silken garments

and steely armaments

reflected in the ancient lakes of this summer land

do you see me, she rasps

swirling me in underwater loves

she drags me to her breast where i rest

kisses the stone of my bones

unheeding of the summons of Merlin

defiantly ungifting trinkets to the kings

the legend of the lady

awaits a feminist twist

shhhh, she whispers, coming

and i dream myself asleep

.

not a haiku

.

ps

I moved the the isle of ancient avalon last year. Do you know where that is? Quite simply, Somerset in the West Country of the UK, near Glastonbury. I felt a pull to come here and so here am i. Still dreaming…

https://www.napowrimo.net

NaPoWriMo day 25

prompt is based on the aisling, a poetic form that developed in Ireland. An aisling recounts a dream or vision featuring a woman who represents the land or country on/in which the poet lives, and who speaks to the poet about it. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that recounts a dream or vision, and in which a woman appears who represents or reflects the area in which you live. Perhaps she will be the Madonna of the Traffic Lights, or the Mysterious Spirit of Bus Stops. Or maybe you will be addressed by the Lost Lady of the Stony Coves. Whatever form your dream-visitor takes, happy writing!