Bardic Circle
How To Not Fit In
Wear socks that don’t match
Especially on Tuesday and Friday
And always with shorts
Wear a wrinkled pink blouse
With a bright red skirt
Red and pink are in the same family
Aren’t they?
*
Don’t get subtle hints
Be confused by mixed messages
And laugh at inappropriate jokes
Always say what you mean
And mean what you say
Because no one else does it that way
*
Take everyone at face value
Be open and honest
In everything you do
Having no hidden meaning behind your words
No hidden agenda behind your actions
Is sure to frighten and confuse
*
Be loud and boisterous in public
Quiet and reserved at home
Have moods that are affected by the weather
Remember to be daring and bold
Always act as if you’ll never grow old
*
Wave with both hands
Bounce into rooms
Offer everyone a hug
And feel bad when they refuse
Dance when you are happy
And wilt when you are sad
*
When there is a job to do
Be the first to volunteer
Once people start to gossip
That you’re trying to take charge
Don’t volunteer the next time
And they will complain about that too
The Stag King Cometh
Stag King!
Lord of the grove
God of the good green Earth
Beneath my feet
Hear my call
And answer me
With heart in hand
And soul on sleeve
I call to thee
Cernnunos!
Come to me!
Come to me!
*
Join me here in this place
This sacred space
By well and rock
In green grove
Of cedar and larch
Aspen and rowan
Elder and rose
Oh great god
I call to thee
Cernnunos!
Come to me!
Come to me!
*
I hear the rustling of the leaves
The chorus of bird song
The wind picks ups
And then dies again
I feel it in the Land
Rushing towards me
Sending shockwaves through my bones
The wild god!
He comes!
He comes!
*
With cloven foot he comes to me
The whole world shivers
With each sacred foot step
I tremble with terror and desire
Nipples harden and strain
Against the soft fabric of my dress
The lover!
He comes!
He comes!
*
The air is filled with a kind of thunder
I shake and shiver in anticipation
Quaking like the leaves on the trees
That surround me
Crowned seven times
With seven tines
He towers over me
The… Continue reading →
In the Company of Pigeons
And so here I sit
An upturned bucket
For a seat
At long last the wind has died down
And my flower sales pick up for a bit
The cellophane rustles in the breeze
I gaze up at the pigeons
Perching above me
And wonder
How long will it take
For cellophane
To become dirt again?
The wind tears flower petals free
To flutter away in the current
Above me six pigeons roost
Upon a telephone wire
They act as audience
To my sales of Easter bouquets
I wonder what the pigeons might think
Of selling flowers for a holiday
I don’t celebrate?
I check my watch yet again
To see if it is time to quit
Then sit back down upon
My upturned bucket
To watch and wait
In the company of pigeons
I’m Bruised
Baby I’m bruised
Yes I’m bruised
From falling off
My pedestal
Baby there are
Blood stains
Yes blood stains
On my pedestal
Can you help me find
My missing teeth
From falling off
My pedestal
Bare Feet
It’s easy to get trained
You see
By the horrid Winter freeze
To bundle up
And sneak outside
And hide from the elements
Then one sunny day in March
You wake up and hear the sound of
The garbage truck coming down your lane
And you are late again
You grab the box of recycling and race down the stairs
On to the porch
To the sidewalk
In the nick of time
And smile at the garbage man
As you turn around to head inside
Suddenly you realise
You’re outside in shirt sleeves
And standing on the sidewalk
In bare feet!
Hurrah for Spring!
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