When image slows and thought runs dry
I calm my mind and close my eyes.
It sometimes comes and sometimes goes
a gentle phrase or rhyming prose.

At times it comes in black and white
or blazing color to third eye sight.
A haunting song floats on the wind
recharge my spirit to start again.

Then write I will, put ink to page
poems of witches wise and sage.
Poems of blessing the fairies bring
tales of dragons and magick things.

Someone whispers in my ear
and says the words I'm writing here.
Guiding my thoughts to pass along
a message to you in rhythmic song.

Willow Dancer
01 - 02 - 03


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