#lordofgreen
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*She appears in the dawn mists of Autumn,
in yellows and gold, in reds and in browns,
painting shades and hues, Nature's decorum,
blushing the trees in her fine harvest gowns.
Dispensing her bounty for all to reap,
walking so confident through woodland scenes,
she prepares the trees for their Winter sleep
with distant thought of leaves and shoots new green.
Come Spring she wears riotous colour dress
in purple and mauve, a spectrum of blues,
showing reds and yellows, pinks to impress,
attracting the eyes to see as they choose.
In summer she arrives in hazy days
basking in new warmth, eager to be shown,
naked to the Sun, exposed to its rays,
Nature's beautiful daughter now full grown.*
© Pagan Paul (09/02/20)
Feb 11, 2020
Feb 11, 2020 at 4:58 AM UTC
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My beautiful Lady, I see your scars,
deep in your eyes, hidden in stars.
Let me hold you, please come near,
I'll give you warmth, banish your fear.
You've been taken from your mother tree,
tossed in the wind, blown to me.
Let your eyes shine, show me belief,
I'll show you love, my Lady Leaf.
© Pagan Paul (31/07/17)
Aug 6, 2017
Aug 6, 2017 at 5:40 PM UTC
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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)
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 6:24 AM UTC
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The Virginal one is a Maiden fair,
a girl adorned with long blonde hair.
Bold and brash, yet cautious and shy,
her dreams lift up and start to fly.
Raven hair falls in delicate tresses,
on the Mother of children Nature blesses.
Calm and firm, yet open and sure,
her dreams fulfilled are played out pure.
Cold and damp attack the bones,
trying to agitate the black haired Crone.
Old and steady, yet clever and wise,
her dreams forever light up the skies.
Walking through woods, warm and shady,
barefoot, confident, the Forest Lady.
She has her dreams and always will,
until the day her heart stands still.
© Pagan Paul (01/02/17)
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 10:29 AM UTC
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A moments magic excitement
of a daring plum sunset
passes into a verdant grey.
A seconds glorious heartbeat
moves on searching eternity
painting the forest dull once more.
© Pagan Paul (2016/2017)
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 5:04 PM UTC
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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)
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
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Mist languidly enshrouds me,
playfully floating it cuddles,
Half heard echoes of love,
ribbons of yearning so soft.
With your delicate face
in my sleep
I am dreaming with
beauty.
With your heart beat
in my sleep
I am dreaming with
love.
With your gentle voice
in my dreams
I am sleeping with
whispers.
© Pagan Paul (12/01/17)
Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 8:28 AM UTC
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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)
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 10:11 AM UTC
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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)
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 5:00 PM UTC
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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)
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 2:32 PM UTC
<>
Eye Liner
Her only adornment
as she dances
entrances
throws glances.
<>
Eye contact
Her one flirtation
as she sways
displays
shyly plays.
<>
Eye catching
Her unique attraction
as she calls
enthralls
gently falls.
<><><>
© Pagan Paul (15/07/16)
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 5:31 AM UTC
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She rides, a silver circlet on her brow.
Wearing the Green of the forest.
Eyes of hazel hold a proud gaze.
Child of the woods, beautiful and fey.
Her name is Leaf, Maiden of the Glades.
She sighs, a longing look in her face.
Yearning for her Lord of Green.
Heart in love with the King of Trees.
Born of the forest, body and spirit.
Maiden of the Glades, the Lady Leaf.
She waits, for Green is far away.
Watching the changes in the woods.
As seasons wax and wane cascades.
Woman entranced, by the living Trees.
Her name is Leaf, Maiden of the Glades.
She cries, a moon daisy in her hair.
Filling the lake of mystical tears.
His absence exhumes an eternal grief.
Body and spirit, beautiful and fey,
Maiden of the Glades, the Lady Leaf.
© Pagan Paul (23/06/16)
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 12:00 PM UTC
Lord of Green
My name is Rook, Lord of the Greenwood.
Protector of the Forest, Shepherd of the Trees.
The Maiden of the Glades, my Lady Leaf
speaks the truth with everything she sees.
I mourn the loss of spinneys and copse.
I grieve at the death of my beautiful Trees.
Lady Leaf cools me, soothes my torrid ire
and speaks truth with everything she sees.
The truth she speaks, are the words of Nature.
Making me weep, as she brings sun to the day.
Waking my slumbering world, arousing the Green
so deer can graze, birds can sing and We can play.
The truth she speaks, the words 'I love you'
burn into my breaking heart, and I feel relief.
I see the forest anew, my Trees come to life.
Teaming into me, thank you my sweet Lady Leaf.
© Pagan Paul (17/06/16)
Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 4:58 PM UTC
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*This forest night belongs to us,
with cool air so fresh and crisp,
held hands follow the tiny lights
of the dancing Will-O'-the-Wisp.
Guiding us through sleeping trees,
along paths that wend and twist,
across glades of woodland grass
bedecked with eerie evening mist.
Leading us to a magickal place
where inhibitions take a loss,
this forest night belongs to us
'pon our bed of soft green moss.*
© Pagan Paul (16/06/18)
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 12:25 PM UTC
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*I saw thee dancing betwixt the trees,
wearing the greenest of velvet dresses,
hair bouncing in a flow of wild wind,
cascading down in tight curled tresses.
Joyously giggling at Natures comfort,
her love surrounding thee in a cloak,
'Tis then thy truest feminine snares
caught the heart of this mighty Oak.*
© Pagan Paul (25/11/17)
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 10:41 AM UTC