Half Moon and the Holly King
Half bitten moon cries a waning scream Her severed pieces are brought by the stream to the cavernous lair of the holly king who grinds his axe on a sharpening stone preparing his block for the gore of...
View ArticleSylph
Sylph Winged one of the eastern gate hangs over Brigantia like an angel of the north rolling off my cornea in fathomless lineaments, sinews strung in touchless cloud defying horizons down. No eye can...
View ArticleMay Poems
Lorna Smithers is a poet and philosophy postgraduate living in Penwortham in Lancashire. She writes poetry inspired by the Bardic Tradition about nature, local history and British mythology and...
View ArticleJune Poem
Lorna Smithers is a poet and philosophy postgraduate living in Penwortham in Lancashire. She writes poetry inspired by the Bardic Tradition about nature, local history and British mythology and...
View ArticleJuly poem
Poetry for July by Lorna Smithers Solstice Sun Down from Preston Bus Station Old sun sinks into the bowels of the city which holds me in its windows, in panes of light golden as mead. Dusk...
View ArticleAugust poem
by Lorna Smithers Grasshopper Party I stepped through a puddle one day and lost a Wellington boot at a giant green grasshopper party. They thought it was such a hoot! I joined their ring with...
View ArticleSeptember poetry
By Lorna Smithers Reaping Moon Gathering poetry from fading light and seeds from meadow flowers, cutting down swathes, curved edges of the scythes sweeping and all the grasses falling....
View ArticleFairy Procession
by Lorna Smithers Recently, Lorna blogged for Moon Books about fairy folklore and fairy funerals. This poem is on the same theme… Fairy Procession Hear, oh, hear The passing bell, fear The midnight...
View ArticleSamhain poetry – Presence
By Lorna Smithers Presence For the Ancestors of this Land You are birch on tundra tossed by the north wind. You are elk drowned agonised in a shallow pool. You are auroch, wild horse, antlered stag...
View ArticleWinter King
By Lorna Smithers you take me back to what is raw, glacial plains of horror, the obnoxious beauty of it all to beyond the ice age when millennia ago we met when the universe drew breath, when the...
View Article
More Pages to Explore .....