Autumnal Chalice
Reflecting quietly, morning eastern light, Scrying through the trees and the Mabon fog. This morning’s poetry flowing on her lips, The harvest hangs heavy on her aching hips. Thoughts turn and twist to… Continue reading
Reflecting quietly, morning eastern light, Scrying through the trees and the Mabon fog. This morning’s poetry flowing on her lips, The harvest hangs heavy on her aching hips. Thoughts turn and twist to… Continue reading
The afternoon shadows call to me, they stretch out across the lawn and the paddocks before me. I hear a frog behind me; the breeze is gently blowing from the south-east. Afternoons like… Continue reading