Fairy Locks

She awoke one dead of night in mid-May

With fairy locks making tangles and knots

In her golden hair; quite still she lay,

Listening to the sound of distant bells,

Laughter and singing - nearby yet far -

And light through the moondust that fell

And glinted and sparkled on little shoes.

Mary, 2009


Fairy shoes by textile artist Annette Emms: Fairy Shoes And Other Things

Oak, Ash and Thorn

Go ye to a place where grows
Oak, Ash and Thorn.
Gather up three branches that
The wind has borne.
Bind them all together with
Threads of three.
Then sit ye down beneath the boughs
And silent be.

Soon the faerie folk will come
Within your sight.
Tiptoeing with their faery lamps
Held high, a-light.
Dancing round in magic ring
With voices sweet.
Treading down the sweet green moss
With tiny feet.

Dancing Fairies (1866), August Malmstrom

Once the rose did sweetly flower
In the Lady's hidden bower
'Round her secret home there grew
Scented blooms of lovely hue

Down the twisting labyrinth lane
Trailed silk from the her little skein
That led the Queen to Rosamund's chair
Where fate befell the maiden fair

Once the rose did sweetly flower
Gone is the Lady's hidden bower
Her secret home the ages scorn
No scent of rose, but sting of thorn.

The American stage actress Maude Fealy as Fair Rosamund, c. 1902 This and many other amazing photographs of Miss Fealy can be found on Andy's marvelous homage to her: here

Birches

I remember the stand of birches
In the field beyond where lady-slippers grew.
Their bleached and peeling bark
white against that Maine sky of blue.

They were my first enchantment,
They called to me in high voices beyond speech.
The pale birches still stand in my memory
Their glowing limbs now beyond my reach.

Mary, 2009


Birch Forest (1902), Gustav Klimt

Elemental

She stood upon a timeless stone
At center of earth in a place unknown
Where time and compass both are still
And guide the heart and soul and will.

To the frozen North she turned her face
The cold air held her tears in place
Like drops of frozen crystal dew
On icy trails where bitter winds blew.

She looked to East, to the sun on the rise
Where hope is born and all fear dies
She heard the zephyrs in the air
And felt them comb her flaming hair.

Now to South, to the fire and heat
The desert sand beneath her feet
She felt the sanguine healing glow
Of spirit spark and passion grow.

And to West she turned at last
Where sunset's born and day is past.
She felt the ocean in her veins
And on her skin the summer rains.

Now to Soul she went within
Where journeys end and then begin
and end again, in blessed ring
Immortal winter, ageless spring.

And there upon a timeless stone
At center of earth in a place unknown
A place all elemental wisdom knows,
She felt the hallowed circle close.

Mary, 2009




Ecstasy (1930), Maxfield Parrish