Come, Lord of the Woods

If you could lift my skin you would find
things invisible to you. I call to you,
will you come my lord?

See - I wear moss velvet hose
and russet skirts that rustle and swirl
over Ramson's petticoats.

Take my hand and run barefoot in ancient
forest; dance close as shadow on a green sward
starred with the sparkle of aconites,

and where the wood meanders on the riverbank
sit quietly to watch otters play on their backs
and juggle smooth pebbles.

Later we'll dine on chanterelles
with chicken of the woods and for desert
eat sweet blackberries sprinkled

with violets. Nightfall, our scented breath
inhales the cool air. We nest in hollow trees
like dormice, rise to find nuts hidden by Jays.

In the heart of the forest in a small
clearing, on the fertile floor a log fire glows.
we have a crystal view of the universe;

heads tilted we open to deep indigo,
in the moonlight silver sails, speed silently
down a wormhole to distant stars.

( Note. Ramson's is wild garlic, one of a few plants indicative of ancient woodland in UK.  Seeing the wild garlic in flower, en masse, they are a froth of lacey white ballhead flowers. Aconites,wild anaemonies, fall into the same category, again indicative of ancient woodland. Chicken of the woods, is a yellow funghi with a meaty texture that grows in clumps on some native trees. )

                                                                                                � Gael Bage

Loch Raven Review Spring 2006 — Vol. 2, No. 1
← Contents Page     |     Cover Page     |     Home     |     Contributor Notes →