Pagan Poetry Book~

Oct 23, 2009 09:42


I'm wanting to put together a book of Pagan poetry. This is not for publishing but rather just for my own personal use. I want to include any poetry with a witchy/pagan slant, anything regarding the sabbats, etc. The poem that I posted before (Sonnet of The Moon) will be included as well as "The Charge of the Goddess" and a few others that I already have at home. However I was wondering if anyone in this community has some favorite witchy poems that I should include in this? Any suggestions of sites to check out where I might some good poems that would fit in with what I'm doing? (I haven't checked the tags yet but will as soon as I'm done posting this)

I found another one in that poetry book that my neighbors were tossing out and I thought I'd share it with you. It's going to be included in this book I'm putting together as well :) I'm not sure what the title of it is as the book doesn't say, if you happen to know what it's called, please let me know. It'd be most appreciated!!~

ETA: These poems don't have to be by well known authors either. Poems you write yourself that you would like to share are also welcome :) Also I checked the tags but didn't really come up with anything...


They stole her from the well beside the wood;
Then years ago as village gossips tell;
One Beltane-eve when trees were all a-bud
In copse and fell.

Ominous, vast, the moos rose full and red
Behind dim hills; no leaf stirred in the glen
That breathless eve, when she was pixy-led
Beyond our ken.

For she had worn no rowan in her hair,-
Nor set the cream-bowl by the kitchen door,-
Nor whispered low the pagan faery prayer
Of ancient lore;

But trod that daisied ring in hose and shoon,
The hear entranced, their elf-bells round her ring;
The wizard spells about her wail and croon
With gathering ring.

Swiftly her arms they bound in gossamer,
With elvish lures they held her soul in thrall;
With wizard sorceries enveloped her
Past cry or call.

A passing shepherd caught his breath to see
A golden mist of moving wings and lights
Swirl upwards past the red moon eerily
To starlit heights.

While far off carollings half drowned a cry,
Mournful, remote of "Mother, Mother dear,"
Floating across the drifting haze,-a sigh
"Farewell, Farewell!"

By: Bernard Sleigh

~*~

poetry

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