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  Jul 2020 Lyn-Purcell
Pagan Paul
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She walked slow through Her home the forest
loving the feelings that made Her laugh,
when a strange shiny thing caught Her eye,
Her first ever sight of a photograph.

She bent to pick up the new object,
its smoothness feeling nice on Her skin,
at first She saw the reverse blank page
then She stared at a picture of Him.

What fey enchantment could well capture
an image of so handsome a man?
She stared at His face with mute wonder
as an owl hoots and the sky grows wan.

Slipping it into Her warm bodice
finely laced on Her long dress of green,
she smiles and meanders to shelter
thoughts of Him into Her mind did teem.


He and friend Tia were out walking
with Tem the dog around the big wood,
a rare visit He was paying her,
filling up the day as best they could.

A memory of that day she took
as good fortune offered her the chance,
a secret photograph she stole when
He stopped to watch a butterfly dance.

Slipping it into her skirt pocket,
a polaroid keepsake gained by farce.
But as they walked on her skirt wavered,
the picture fell to lay on the grass.

Unnoticed the wind blew it away
landing it in a glade so shady,
and the picture of Him lay face down
until found by the forest Lady.


Daughter of Nature She roamed the trees,
His image She held with growing need.
A wise face that looked kind and gentle,
enough to make Her lonely heart bleed.

She reached for Her paints and easel,
pinned His image to a wooden frame,
touching her pencil to reed paper
she sketch copied for to know His name.

The sketch layered into a drawing,
Her hands moving deftly and with skill,
to capture His form and His likeness
with every fibre of Her will.

She paints around Him filling detail,
background grass, the butterfly and trees.
Delicately Her brush touches Him,
strokes building His image by degrees.


He closed His tired eyes and heavy yawned
laying in the guest bed for to sleep,
the cry of the forest calls to Him,
the feeling to answer draws Him deep.

His mind begins to wander away
on its night journey it does embark,
sliding into the open dream world
as an owl hoots and the sky grows dark.


As an owl hoots and the sky grows dark
She completes the last stroke of the brush.
She steps back to view Her painted man,
a brief panic hits Her with a rush.

A brief panic hits Him with a rush,
he started then slow opened His eyes.
He found He was in a woodland glade
getting brighter under clearing skies.

She started then opened Her eyes,
He stood there made flesh and oh so real,
He stared at Her face with mute wonder
and watched as Her smile She did reveal.

Staring silently at each other
they stood in the glade cool and shady.
He smiled back at Her with eyes and mouth,
and He spoke soft “Greetings my Lady”.


© Pagan Paul (25/07/20)
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9 syllables per line.
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Lyn-Purcell Jul 2020

Her glare pierces true
For she always comes to light
Bitter yet so free


Another day, another haiku!
This one is dedicated to Alethia, Goddess / Spirit of Truth.
I k how there isn't much on her, but honestly, I appreciate this goddess because shes rather prevalent in our day to day lives.
Weve all lied about something and to get out of the truth, we cover it with more lies. But the truth has a way of always coming to light, and it can be bitter, harsh and hurtful...it can set us free.
Theres a beautiful elegance to it really...
Thanks so much for 371 followers, I hope you're enjoying this series as much as I'm writing it!
Here's the link for the growing collection:
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/132853/the-women-of-myth/
Be back tomorrow with another one!
Much love,
Lyn 💜
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2020

She of molded clay
Fingers trace the wooden ***
Poison whispers sweet


You know what they say about curiosity and boxes, this one is dedicated to the one and only Pandora.
Even when she ket curiousity get the best if her an unleashed so much negativity, she also released hope and that alone will see us through.
Thanks for 370 followers!
Here's the link for the growing collection:
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/132853/the-women-of-myth/
Be back tomorrow with another one!
Much love,
Lyn 💜
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2020

She of moonfire
Entranced by her sleeping prince
Hands on heart, serene


This haiku is dedicated to Selene, Goddess of the Moon.
I love Selene for many reasons but what cemented my love for her was none other than Sailor Moon!
I love how their story is depicted in the manga and anime, Usagi and Selene will always have a special place in my heart.
Of course I grew up with the myth of her crushing ******* Endymion, Zeus granting her wish to keep the Shepard ageless while in eternal sleep and she sired 50 daughters which really weirded me out. So Ive somewhat rewritten the myth in mind.
Even so, Im grateful for Selene.
As much as I'm a logophile and biblophile , I'm very much a selenophile ^-^
Here's the link for the growing collection:
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/132853/the-women-of-myth/
Be back tomorrow with another one!
Much love,
Lyn 💜
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