Young Traveller

Gunpowder sky-sharks

Spun, crackled; are gone

‘Neath their magic sparks

We laughed, loved and shone.

But this is silver time

Passing on by –

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The Dark Iron-Tree

North wolf-door belongs

To the Devil in songs;

The dark iron-tree

Born of dead-sky-sea

Fell through fire, slate

Thick boar-skull plate

And dragon-crest helm

Into the Albion magic realm.

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In The Small

dragonfly

With savage shell-bone pride

Members of the dragonfly tribe

Carry a beautiful storm miracle

Below their flexible armour cages;

And aerobat on flicker-shine wings

That flatten the earths corners,

Bend the skies straightways up,

Fasten the sun in time and place.

Recognise the magic, please,

In the small hum-drum things;

Catch some contentment from the

Small, pleasant pulses of joy.

 

 

Photo: courtesy of www.bendigocc.blogspot.com

30/8/2013

The Smiles

candle1

The smiles were

Always pretty

And she said

“You are the son of a witch,

Brother to a vampire:

It’s no wonder you are crazy!”

 

The candles were

Soon gone

And she said

“I must have smoke,

I must use gold:

It’s no wonder you are crazy!”

 

Remaining days were

Travel-filled;

We danced

In a blaze of glory,

Kept the faith.

There’s a marvellous magic

to being crazy!

 

11/9/03