Blogging Poetry

In the Sidhe

Dance with me.

We fiercely dance in Dreams,

toe-taps, curtsies, and bows,

Mab, I, the Fever Scream

howling, furious, Proud.

Candlelights burn brightly

as we Spin. We will traipse

careful… delicately…

lest we exhaust, collapse.

Good Mother Mab, grant rest,

a mere moment to breath!

Our Child, borne by this Dance,

rests with Me, in the Sidhe.


© CGT, 2017.

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