The autumn dawn
has fainted,
****-frost shines
through my eyes.
Ghostly mist
from pine to
pine is
beckoning,
like a silver
breeze to
hallow all.
Our burdened
breath, it haunts
us everywhere.
I feel the silence
tearing up
my lost soul.
Where nightingales
do not sing
and dream the
blue skies of
the North,
I drift through
that middle air,
magic
is blazing
in my auburn hair.
And in these lonely
hours-ancient spirits
reflect within me.
Faces carved in
dead wood
walking on
my strings.
A seashore
howling below
the mountain
dew glen.
But i do not fear
to run in woodland
memories,
Into this autumn day,
Far, far away...

(Long, long ago,
when people still
believed in witches...)

-To wander
longingly through
the forest in search
of mystery, but
she herself was
a haunted house.
When night comes,
the whole witch chorus
follows anon.
On brooms of blazing
embers they ride,
Jumping out
of Hell-fire.
The wind is hushed,
The stars grow pale
while the black cat cries
to the moon.
It was All Hallow's Eve,
the ancient ones could tell.
Where ghosts haunt their
graveyard,
Until the morning stars sang
together.

(Here, in the forest,
dark and deep,
I offer you
eternal sleep...)

Of all the places
she sought to hide
She only found one
safe place inside
in dancing images
where the poetry
resides.