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Julia kRu Jan 2010
Another day stirs me awake,
Before its dawn I'll travel far.
Clay path ahead, feet burning dead,
Days - short, nights - long. My friend - a star.
Essea is the name I bear,
For I'm a healer-elf; I share
Great wisdoms of the ancient worlds.
Her secrets Nature deftly hides -
I know paths where She them unfolds,
Jumping, her creatures at my sides.

Knowing my Past, I don't forget
Lothlorien, my only home,
My Mother and my Father - dead,
Now buried under wooden dome.
Over Dark Hills, alongside Men,
Praying for Light, they fought Dark Prince.
Quick death slew them at Sauron's den.
Rare words are spoken of them since...

Searching for Light, I travel wide,
Trees, Herbs, and Rivers help my quest.
Unseen to all, with gales I ride
Vast shores and lands from North to West,
Warring dark powers that may be.
Xylographs I carve, so that
Ye, my Beloved, only Ye,
Zealous for me, do find my path.
----
I have a way with Evil -
My love it should not wish.
Perverted and seduced, then dead
Dark things who taste it, be!

Frightened you are to learn this, -
You needn't be - for I
Present no danger to good folk -
You cannot cheat my eye.

(c)kRu, 2002
Clelia Albano Mar 2019
Take me to the xylographs of Tunis
Where silken shades of colour  
Dissolve and reassemble  

Take me to the white veils of sand
Along with Elysia
To the oils of Giverny scented with
Climbing roses  

( I want to touch them with my fingers)

Take me to the orange rows of Laos and  
-further away-  let me
Into the magic Australian Outback

( I want to count how many dots exploding  
The picturesque of Aboriginals)

Take me to Berlin before the curtain on
The Night
To the peripheries of the world

( I want to look in the eye the eyes kept prisoner by Time)
Then let me into the remote echo of the invisible squares
Crystal Freda Jan 2018
Anything can
Be made or
Created for
Delight for
Everything that
Fascinates us.
Good things can
Hold us
In our minds and
Jumps and
Kicks in our hearts.
Love can
March us into
New
Opportunities and
Part us
Quickly away from
Roads that
Subtract us from
The path.
Unraveling a
Victorious time to the
Way that
Xylographs
Your life in a
Zap.
ABC poem

— The End —