In the woodland, a wildling roams unbound
She speaks the language of leaves, and the wind’s soft sounds.
Her hair, a cascade of chestnut and gold
Always tangled with pines, keeping her warm when it’s cold
At each sunrise, she emerges from her leafy bed
She greets the day glowing like the sun, it’s said
Her magical power rooted in the soil below
Out of her nature’s wonders flow
She dances each season, a gentle ballet,
Keeping the harshest of weather and foes away
Under the moon’s silver gaze, she weaves her spells,
The owls listen, to help spread the word of the secrets she tells,
Wildlings know no chains,
When it’s her time, she will vanish into the mist, but her essence will remain
And her magical song will forever be woven into the forest,
And when you’re walking through you may hear it, blended in to nature’s chorus”
Golden
Little Golden books,
from our childhood,
line the shelf which sits now lonely.
Their readers, all grown up,
and gone.
Tales of the tails of
puppy dogs,
and Ugly Ducklings.
The elves and the shoemaker,
and Frosty with his friends.
Peter Pan, and Alice
along with the palace of
The Princess and the Pea.
Our own children
have been neglected,
by us, who have been blessed.
We did not pass to them,
what was given freely to us.
We should have done better.
Put away the technology,
and reconnect to the heart,
of every person
both young,
and old.
Gather in the chair,
at the end of the stair...
where father sits.
Listen as he speaks the words,
to your favorite and mine.
Gather in the park,
where mama talks loud
with fascinating tones,
and even sings...
the songs,
of the Wildlings
from the book,
in her
hand.
Give imagination,
a chance,
to be reborn,
in the world.
Live in the reality of the now.
Choose to gain and not to give,
take back everything
and learn to live.
The trees move past me
And the sun above me, around
I can see that yellow everywhere -
In the dawn sky between the black and blue,
In the graveyard milestones I cross by and by,
In the rings of fire of the noon star,
In the fragile leaves waiting to fall at my touch.
I can see that warm yellow cut by his sharp rings of black.
I cruise past the winged wildlings
And drift as slow as the setting sun.
I can see that shape-shifting yellow everywhere
In the many mad-made temples of mistruths
In the machines racing to nowhere lands
And in the hearts of men that ride them.
I can see that blood yellow, it's etched in my sight.
I'm standing still and the world is moving behind,
I can see life and I can see death in the rings of my fingers.
I can see that yellow that's so bright, it's the color of love
Lighting up on the touch of skin on skin
And in the center of trees as old as the world
And in the souls that eyes cannot see.
I can that yellow that's not yellow, and it's breathing rings of life into me.
I'm alive again.
I cast a spell for your lost soul
A woven web to make you whole
It took awhile for it to weave
It's wickedness for those to see
But you are mine a broken slave
Once free to flirt now bound naive
No walls to climb or fences raised
Tamed you are your hide is grazed
I am the master of your soul
Dauntless creator I make you whole
Your darkest moments are mine
Whips and scars left behind
But when I call you will run
Responding to my clever pun
For I am the master of your game
No longer creator of your name
My puppet and pleasure toy
Shall you remain amongst ahoy
Or simply depart like the rest
After suckling a wildlings breast?
Time will tell my fair soul
My whips and chains will make u whole
And when you end this hapless game
Please pray tell release your Name
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