- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Queen of the May
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She taught me how to sing once, that song
Was the entrance to the heart of her.
I sang my love and opened to her.
All defenceless was I against her.
She toppled me with dark enchantment.
Her steady gaze brooked no resistance.
Roe deer hiding behind the thicket,
Lapwing dancing on the silver beech,
My Taliesen sang for her delight.
But poets and singers must fear her.
Moon magic is fickle , inconstant.
It tires of the singer and the song.
Lapwing and deer become baying hounds
To drive the singer from the doorway.
Night Mares pursue him relentlessly.
Oak King dies, the Holly with its thorns
Becomes the singer's mantle, his crown,
Barren winter hills his resting place.
.
And so I now wander, my voice stilled,
The songs all sung, the stories all told,
There is no ease for the once-bewitched.
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