Kingsbrae 13.3
13 June 2017
Myth Magic
This old world, born again,
renewing itself before my eyes.
My hands reach out to touch it
and I feel it grow beneath my fingers,
so soft, so sensitive,
and my memories as wild
as the delicate deer that tumble
and run to enter the gardens
and plunder red roses
from the holy of holies.
Some days, the warm earth
trembles as those old gods walk again,
Orpheus, Pan, Diana by moonlight,
Narcissus perishing by the pond.
In our Secret Garden,
Robin song still haunts and enchants me.
Echo calls back from a not-so-distant past
and her voice lingers among birdsong,
soft and long.
Heh, good point. So much for THAT alliteration.
LikeLiked by 1 person
As Her Majesty says: “One has to be careful, doesn’t one!”
LikeLike
I’m thinking you could Kraft the Kingsbridge Kronicles Kollection.
Kevin StephensCell: 506 261 4545
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think I might … it’s a great idea. Don’t like the KKK though!
LikeLike