.
I love her many faces,
they swim in my dreams eternal,
tantalising, playing, and held within,
breaking the shell to find the kernel.

The source of beauty beholden there,
brings succour to an aching heart,
chanting, singing, a pretty lullaby,
straight as an arrow, swift as a dart.

A veil of Wisdom hangs loose,
showing me the way with herbs,
aromatic, evocative, a hazy swoon,
a tranquil lake, a thrown stone disturbs.

I adore her seductive curves,
they dance in my time and space,
rhythmic, ******, and shown external,
a Wiccans kiss and a Womans grace.


© Pagan Paul (08/08/16)

.
I go by the name of Rook.
Lord of all that you can see.
I cradle and nurture my forest home,
my throne sits in the Poetree.

The canopy stretches before me,
tree tops licked in morning dew.
A finch catches my eye and winks,
greeting his Lord, then off he flew.

The sounds of Dawn, the forest awakes,
shedding sleep dust to the rising sun.
An owl calls her goodnight hoot,
disappears, rejecting the day to come.

Otters sport, play chase, by a stream
that flashes silver as light rays dance.
A Ladybird, yellow with black spots,
lands surprised, to crawl along a branch.

Clean crisp air, caressing nostrils,
invigorating life through cool beauty.
The vista of sunrise across the woods,
the source of inspiration for the Poetree.

© Pagan Paul (24/01/17)

.
Her charms cannot be hidden,
laying languid in soft repose,
cloaked in dreams of night,
to her secret fantasies she goes.

Doe eyes closed in star sleep,
sweet gentle breath from parted lips.
A shift of woven mist she wears,
nestling flirtatious about slim hips.

A moment stirs her silent rest,
a sigh, rises, pours and escapes.
Anticipating beauty, the inner promise,
of doe eyes when she wakes.


© Pagan Paul (26/11/16)

.
I would love to see you
pretty at the Summer Fayre,
a twinkle in your dark eyes,
and flowers in your hair.

Arm in arm we would wander
to see the delights and share
moments of wonder together,
pretty at the Summer Fayre.

We'd visit the Gypsy fortune teller
to learn what secrets lay there,
take our fill of games and stalls,
pretty at the Summer Fayre.

And dance we shall tonight,
unrestrained, with never a care.
Its there I'll fall in love with you,
pretty at the Summer Fayre.

I'll take you off to my home,
to the forest if you dare.
My carefree, captivating, Lady Leaf,
pretty at the Summer Fayre.

We will dance on into the night,
lovers loving, so that I can swear,
I've never seen you so beautiful,
pretty at the Summer Fayre.


© Pagan Paul (12/11/16)

.
Step out of your life,
take my hand, walk with me.
Deep to the heart of the forest,
and we'll visit the bonding tree.

Step out of your life,
hold my hand, lets walk a while.
To the magic woodland glade,
just a few steps, just another mile.

Step out of your life,
grip my hand, tie the cord.
We will jump the midnight fire,
my Lady Leaf, your Green Lord.

Step out of your life,
kiss my hand, lose your dress.
Sky-clad lovers on a mossy bed,
natural union consummated, blessed.

Step out of your life,
holding hands, we'll walk together.
I will step out of mine,
hold your heart, promise you forever.

Step out of your life,
take my hand, walk with me.
Handfasted lovers, blessed by nature,
and witnessed by the bonding tree.


© Pagan Paul (28/10/16)