Jul 042016
 

harpI was in many a guise,
before I was disenchanted.
/ am a grey-cowled minstrel
I believe in illusion.
I was for a time in the sky
I was observing the stars.
I was a message in writing
I was a book to my priest.
I was the light of the altar-horns,
for a year and a half
I was a bridge, which is stationed
over three score water-meets.
I went traveling
I was an eagle
I was a coracle on the seas.
I was the attraction in good.
swordsI was a drop in a shower.
I was a sword in the hand-grip
I was a shield in battle.
I was a string in the harp of
enchantment for nine years.
In water I was the spume.
I was a sponge in the fire.
I was scrub in the covert.
I am not one who does not sing
I sang, though I was little,
at the battle of the Scrub-shoots,
against Britain’s Ruler
and the Irish ships, is
a rich-laden fleet.

Taliesin, The Battle of the Scrub

May 292010
 

fairy.poetry4Behold what we’ve seen!

In the night Faerie Queen

Showed us her tresses and danced through our dreams.

Told not a soul the Chevalier bold,

As he grew older than all the King’s soldiers.

Joy rose on fire from the funeral pyre,

Free as a bird that escaped the dark world.

White water rivers made stirring souls quiver;

Trees in the mistral of love’s mourning minstrel.

Silent with learning did Knights made their journey

To lands where the treasure was far beyond measure.

Light was the angel with eyes fixed on sunrise.

Cloak made of rain-clouds that raised up the death-shroud.

Beautiful, lethal, the Nephilim’s sequel

Returned through the sight that could penetrate night.