(Lavender Healing) Do a lover's lips, made wet by my kiss of morning's wake Speak less the truth because my mouth has thus entwined? Do thine eyes that gaze the sun's rays strewn, from navel to thy nape Close on knowledge of veracity, in lustrous wonder blind? Perhaps it is the smell of lavender, Lingering … Continue reading On Listening
poetry
The Flying Time
Near hedge row ridge Her roots are sown. The firelight calls Her power home. The besom stands In ready aid. Lift up and go! Her Magick made.
The Hedge Witch
The liminal witch Both light and dark Seeing and knowing Healing and growing In mystery we trust By intention we honor So flourishes the Witch Calling our power home
Meg Rosenbriar 