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 Oct 2017 Starr Bright
Pagan Paul
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Come! Come! One and all,
come to my woodland hall,
attend ye all mid-winters ball,
in friendship harken to my call.

Paths awash with candle light,
in the branches burning bright,
such an enchanting magical sight,
to guide you gentle through the night.

Friends with whom to drink and eat,
cuddled warm in a sylvan heat,
while dancers fling to keep the beat,
songs are sung, lovers meet.

And by a fire in a little glade,
words are spoken, promises made,
the Bonding tree with hearts displayed,
brings memories that will never fade.

.

And when the party is at an end
I'll lovingly embrace my dearest friend,
and quieter than what lies beneath,
whisper sweet poetry to my Lady Leaf.



© Pagan Paul (04/10/17)
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Poem 6, Series 2 of my Lord of Green collection.
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I caught a butterfly, I kept it trapped within a jar,
it soared to the lid; it wasn't high, I never let it go too far.
I caught a butterfly, I wished for it to be my pet,
but without fresh air it was bound to die, a lesson I still forget.

I caught a butterfly, she was grazing over green grass,
together we watch time go by, together we see the days pass.
I caught a butterfly, to this day I still thank my net,
but with too much sun it's wings will fry, a lesson I still forget.

Life is not meant to be,
lived out as on display,
as that butterfly was once me,
now it's another's soul today.

I caught a butterfly, fresh out of her cocoon,
she barely chanced to fly, she never glimpsed sun nor the moon.
I caught a butterfly, I believed it was luck that we met,
but wings waving can mean hello or goodbye, a lesson I still forget.

Life is not meant to be,
locked up and put away,
it belongs with the air of a tree,
under blue skies or grey.

I caught a butterfly, I was excited to show everyone,
what you can grasp if you try, what can actually be done.
I caught a butterfly, and it's life's days are now just a bet,
I can't even look myself in the eye, it's a lesson I can't forget.

Life is not meant to be,
observed from far away,
we all deserve to live free,
and free we all should stay.
You were always the pen
that bled life, onto my empty pages,
you are every single page, that holds a memory,
you have always been the inspiration, to all my love phrases.

And you never knew…

It was always your fingertips
that I longed to feel, softly caress me,
always your image that has refused to be erased,
you have always been, every single page that holds a memory.

And you never knew…

It was you, whom I longed for,
you who I desired to caress my face,
always you, who bled life onto all my empty pages
and it was always only you, whom my memory refused to erase.

And you never knew… It’s always been you…
Eyes meeting eyes
      as anticipation peaks
           hearts pounding fast
               even skipping beats.

A slow moving burn
      blissful fire on the rise
            gentleness in the moment
                 emotions intensify.

  Fingertips trace
passion flows free
souls lock together
  sparks you see.

                 Melding into one another
                         as lips meet
                   time and space stills
                repeat… repeat…repeat…

           A magical moment
            deliciously divine
                that first kiss
           dripping of honeyed
                                 sweet wine.
~
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