Solstice lady

[hester_prynne]

WinterSolsticeLadyDeer.jpg (24.86 KiB) Viewed 2946 times

[hester_prynne]

Beauty, tradition,
hardy heartist,
cool magician,
aloft in a dream,
what is
isn't what it seems,
warmth in a cold beam.
No fear deary deer,
beautiful lady light
is near.

H

[neologistic]

light my path, dear Dear
open dorways to my eyes
light my path, sweet Dear
hold your branches out for me to feel
don't do no damage, no
don't do no damage with those Wings

[Steve Plonk]

"Eclipsed Solstice Lady Moon"

Solstice Lady moon
You were eclipsed today--
Early this morning--
I salute first day
of Winter, with snowy
Patches, icicles/

Next eclipse, on Winter
Solstice will be late this
Twenty-first century,
When many of us will
Be long to dust/

Lady Solstice Eclipsed Moon,
Pauses, & then revealed, like Diana,
With the deer & her frosty breath
Breathes icicles & hibernation
For many furred animals...
But our friend, the deer, forage
For food in the snow & ice
Invigorated by their forage
To brave the frost this winter &
Animals look up at the sky
On the shortest day of the year,
Just as we do, at lunar phenomena...
Pause, in their foraging, etc. to wonder/

[Arcadia]

no scarf & light costumes
while outdoors is full of snow
brave lady giving rest to a deer

[SadLuckDame]

Much intricacies in
her snow-cicled lash,
the embroidered bodice
and white frosty drift
of long lacy sashes.

She'd swish to and fro
like a wintry mistress
and lulled gentle nudge
to give whim when thrice
he'd seemingly portrayed
flighty, more frightened.

"Little head with the snow,
come lay thee near."
he'd lie softer upon her
pillow light thigh
with snowy coverlet,
in affections of woe
within a sad doe eye
and shook-en nose,

but all froze
when a stiff arrow flew
neatly to hug
the soft of chilly bosom
and politely it declined
to ask such permissions,

her face came close with a whisper near,
"Deer, small deer, race me along the river,
carry me swift, as swift as this arrow
for I've to hurry home."

In haste he quickened
with her spirit entwined,
past the bowing gentleman
and his lavish appetite
for the softest of creations.

[constantine]

she walks as a dryad through the pines
the idyllic forest glade, meandering
the rivulets, her senses like tendrils
intricate root systems connecting,
transmitting, relaying
the loop of experience, herself
a detail of the canvas, basking
in the sun's sweet illumination
piercing the green overlay
with yellow-emerald shards,
enhancing and revealing
the varied patterns of life
subliminal harmonies
like rain upon the canopy
merging with the heartbeat biota,
her palette - a grand pastiche!
the mosaic of her soul

[neologistic]

these are beautiful words, my god. happy holidays