ArnemetiaSacred grove of silver birches,
Ladies reaching to the sky, Silver sun shines bright on snowfall, Snow on heather, snow on rock. Winter light is waning quickly, Drawing darkness, shadows form, Sunlight, through the branches dropping, Puts himself to sleep. Nine rock maidens form a circle, Dance together beneath the moon, The King alone, stands forlornly, Shadows from a distant time. Silver moon and nine stones gleaming, One woman lays down her ring, Lays it on the north stone, standing, Sacrificial offering. The lone woman lays down her flowers Kneels and weeps, then laughs and smiles, Fraught with loves, and disappointments, Lays down her heart tonight. Silver light on nine stones scatters, Catches the flowers and the ring, Illuminates the grove with splendour Reflecting off the trees. Goddess in the grove is dreaming, Silver shining from the ring, Woman walks the nine stones, nine times, Wakes the Goddess from her sleep. Goddess of the birch grove watching, Woman bows her head to leave, Goddess makes the unearthly promise, “Rest in sacred peace.” Woman walking quickly homewards, Ring and flowers are left in place, Left to please the nine stones’ Goddess, Of this sacred place. |
Nine Ladies of Stanton Moor amongst Silver Birches
The Grey Ladies. There were nine, but only four can be found today.
A standing stone on Stoke Flatt , Froggett Edge, just after the Equinox 2012. |
Mercian Gathering 2010
Thornborough Henge 2012 |
BelisamaThere are flames on the water tonight
The descending sun, the darkening sky A funeral pyre, balanced momentarily On the world’s watery edge. One last backward glance, then it slips Softly, unnoticeably, over the horizon, Leaving dark on dark, diffusing, deceiving, Sky and water, merging. I cannot tell you when it ceased To ride the waves. An ochre pathway trails Across indigo waves. Dragon’s breath licks the sea’s surface Flickering bewitchingly, beckoning enticingly, “Come beloved, follow Belisama.” I step onto the gold-gleaming sweep, The shock of cold, claws my soul, The tug of the tide: inhale, exhale, inhale. Seaweed tendrils clasp my knees, Mermaids’ hair entwines my waist, I succumb to their hypnotic song, Numbing heart and mind, A golden net spills ocean wide, Capturing the entranced. Enraptured, I am driven from glory to glory, Ride the flaming solar chariot, Rage the blackened skies, The diamond studded darkness, Flames carve our path, Pulled by lightening, Thunder crushing, Bel whips her frenzied fiery steeds, On and on. The virgin dawn rises pink and tearful Through silver cumulous clouds, A gentle breeze inhales, exhales Shoes lie empty on a tide washed beach. |
