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Pagan Poetry - Songs of my Forebears

Image –by Shi-Nya-Nya

The Songs Were like Dust In my Bones Aching Yearning to be released

Blood stained fingertips Becoming fingerprints Along the edges Of the Cave wall

I bury my heart deep Betwixt the hedgerow A shadow of the Land Beneath my feet

I stomp Out the remedy and the rhythm To songs long forgotten That reside On the tip of our tongues

These songs Were like dust Rising again from the bones Swirling

Rising on the winds Of memory And were tasted Remembered Once again.

– Joanne Morris 2017 All my own work and design all rights reserved

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