"amort" poems
Where she stops
Someone dies
Grandma keep a watchful eye
For on your deathbed as you lay
The Dullahan will come to play
Gifted with supernatural sight
You, she sees, in the dark of night
A whip of a human spine she does wield
From her, your soul I cannot shield
Head in hand, grey with decay
I pray to the gods—come what may
On her pitch-black steed she rides
Dressed in a gown stitched of human hides
Her decapitated head wears a Glasgow grin
Prepare for death when the Dullahan comes riding in
Member of the Unseelie Court
She’s the collector of souls; bodies amort
Although the protective curtain’s drawn
Grandma, you’ll be dead before the dawn
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 8:21 AM UTC
you walk with me, my friend
hand in hand
away from the amort
delighted at a dulcet sound of a violin
an amateur that coalesces two hearts
come meet me at the empyrean garden
bring your lilt and your ebuillence
seeing the mollusks
smelling the jasmine
a fragrance to a dreamy memory
our eyes happy
my heart too
at the thought of you
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 7:44 AM UTC