Do you believe the Old ways are dead?

Under a sky dripping stars
the Lady of dancing flame
materializes at arms length
mischievous green slade eyes glowing in the darkness
black silk hair that merges with the night

She is moving in the darkness
pirouettes atop a pinnacle of granite and moonlight
sparks of mica
earth-stars reflecting the silver stars above the world
spangling the belly of this daughter of April

She lifts her eyes
speaking more to the moon
little more than an observer
I lean closer

“Do you believe
the Old ways are dead?”

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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