Pagan Poems - Poems about Pagan

Shall I compare thee to an onyx rose? Thy thorns draw blood as softly as thy lips, A bloom that drinks the night where moonlight flows, With shadow wine which this mortal sips with willing lips. By torch of bone and ash of laurel leaf, We tread the path where triple faces leer, Twin serpents coil beneath thy midnight sleeves, And stir...

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Born of Aphrodite, in every life graceful. Born of Aphrodite, in every life loving. Bound to children of war, Sons and Daughters of Ares. In every life devoted, To loving and nurturing In every life hers, Those children of love. Born of the love, the faith, and the long...

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It's been a long road my friend, Don't know where to begin, The nautical miles we sailed, Amazing where we've been, You became a Pagan boy, Leaving a rumble from your wheels, Nobody heard you're dying words, A numb touch without feels, Reaching high for some help, Second chance has begun, A cross became imprinted,...

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arminius a German vassal prince, offered bait.' Of the best. More Land in Germanica off to their west.' Two legions decamped And were led on their way, by this dastared arminius villian Of that day' his warriors were waiting in undergrowth thick Druids there many, made potions; chanted and waved sticks' Publius and two legions.' Were slaughtered en'masse nailed...

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O, Sapientia, Mistress of Our Soul, Effulgent glory of eternal light Spin the wheel of life that you govern Ordering all within the moonlit night. O come, fairest Sapientia, lead us into day With saving hand, on heaven's sacred way....

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Amazon mist and rainy mornings green as the day God made them dropping from a moist sky full of even grays and sheltering light peaceful music playing from the spheres of a dense forest dream we are all little humans in a big big giant cave, .... the rain Pitter...

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A POEM FOR ANGITIA: a paraphrased of Silius Italicus (c26-191 CE) Angitia the Daughter of Eeta the Sun And the Sea-nymph Persa Was first to use herbs In magic and wellness. She is Mistress of Venoms. She murmurs by the stream To draw down the Moon. By her command the river is held back. The mountains and the forests become still....

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The Devil's House The house has lived for centuries, on grim and dismal ground. And when you've reached inside, the dust and demons come around. The lock is still unbroken though has tried for years still to knock itself to the ground and bury brass and key. For there are secrets hidden inside it doesn't want souls to see. The house...

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Bacchus confronts us in a shady place, A tangled grove, and he, astride a cask. Gross limbs and belly, small besotted face, And lips pursed to the uptilted flask. A buxom dryad, white against his tan, Attends him (sturdy spirit o' the trees) ; As free a woman she as he a man, But gracious-limbed...

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I remain a stranger to my husband’s kin it’s strange I miss their stranger’s skin but bring taboo to skin they’re in if words I speak upon their name I hide my words in fear of harm displease the trees who delivered man and breezed them on a wind to farm the land trees put aside for them in my hands, a harp I...

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Men bearing nakedness and strips of thong running through and whipping the female throng Blood red and milk white, colors of delight. A tradition for years that remained strong. Young women wrote names with aim to belong. Man drawing their name is their hopeful song. Placed strip in an urn for a mate they yearn. The new couple together all year long. Celebration of...

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A solar halo Sol Invictus blistering Or the cross blazing Burning for roman bloodshed Who in truth was Cain scheming ...

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Here is where my soul finds shelter, As I lovingly arrange what is my altar, A shelf which shall remain as a kind gesture, If only we could read stars and cards forever....

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listen to the swaying leaf she sings a song tempestuous and sway it deems in overture another life departed . . . on listen now a voice of light she sings a song a nexus verse in hand whose cup within her palm another life can come . . . along ...

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sowing a melange of veined wafers viridescent shavings leaves upon leaves chaotically neat layered in tranquillity for the theatrical show of first feet premiere wellies curtain up at dawn cue the early walkers after a night’s forlorn which unseen hand spritely close knitted the forest cross-stitched floor taking their time perfectionist preparing fallen Jenga sticks behind the scenes but never seen Jack in the Green...

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