This berrybox full of foxes
Cry moonsong to the light
With the crack and smash
Of the axeheads song
Singing through the night
Robins on the windowsill
Their wingbeats a lullaby
Sing a song of black birds
When the wind is in the rye
Carry the firewood through emerald grass
And passed the green ivy wall
Up to the oaken eagle door
Which speaks of the coming fall
There is Rosemary under the doormat
Mint and Lavender too
Calling to the Fates of Good Fortune
That dance where the West Wind blew
The altar waits in the tall grass
Where cats-paw will lead the way
Passed Blackberry and Roses
To something wild and fey
Stay there, safe in your own world
Unbroken and armor-clad
Call the rain, call the starfall, the dazzling light
And remember the dreams that you had.
A little whimsy for a rainy morning. My novel is eating me alive, but in a positive manner… The gnaw marks on my ankles are a little unfortunate though. I keep on thinking I’ll work on something else, then five hours later I look up from the chapter I’m on and realize my brain has become some sort of glue like substance, but the cool stuff with glitter in it that your parents wouldn’t buy you because it wasn’t on the required school shopping list. And if you tilt your head a little and squint you realize the glitter looks like dragons!
Maybe that’s just me.
I am always looking for dragons.
Have a rad day.
Original poetry by Jessica A. Rasmussen (that’s me!) Do not use, reproduce, or otherwise tinker with my work. Unless we talk directly and I say it’s cool.
More original poetry here.