Good Mother
What will make no sense to one man holds revelation for the next.
Bless the muse her word's of wisdom.
Bless Boon for a guiding hand.
Bless the Ice Queen Virgins of the valley
Whom pacified this land.
My religion my own, opinion my own
Grounded isolation, home sweet home.
Guard your secret well my son, remember as the Oboe done,
the way to flow, to call upon Pan, to know the giant's dance
Good mother adorns her child in spirit, maiden, mother, crone
Spin to measure to cut the thread of crowns hewn out of bone.
He may have no name, no distinct aroma
Just a song he whistles as he walks,
Vervain carried for protection, in honour of Venus turn your coat
To lift the mood.
To pull straight through.
To shift in modes of revolution.
Did they never tell you child, a circle with ends disjointed is no circle but a line,
No need to lift the mood, myself I'm feeling fine.
Still a little anxious, paranoid at times, Calling out in the night for a soul to comfort mine.
Shines this sweet dream moon beam maiden as she heralds a call for new beginnings,
Find the child of the moon to guide us in darkness, through mystery, obscurity, we find her content with her reflection.
Freedom for the soul to unwind,
Freedom there to find the time.
Paint a picture, write a book,
take another look....................
The world outside is waiting
As fortune flares to favour the blind
To taste the flavours of a bending mind,
A way to travel, way to find, to unravel the tapestries that blanket your mind.
To breed some new ideals.
An end to childish fears, insomnia
Adjust your frame to support your state of mind
Propel to prosper from the flavour at your hands
Ascertain your champion will die without a cause
Proud out of proportion, speaks without a pause.
A kind hearted clown, from a town in the hills
Foolhardy, flatfooted, chewing his face off on pills
Does it appeal to you, or is it hard to swallow
That the sun in the sky won't return tomorrow.
[...] Read more
poem by David Lacey
Added by Poetry Lover
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