Imagine_
Chewing the mythic Toadstool;
Liquor of the Sluagh-Sidhe_
Dance-floor of the Luney Jig;
Inhaling the Faery fumes of Awen—
Ivy, Hellebore, Laurel –
The Muse is speaking in the Dark_
The Heart opens;
The Mind is rushed with renewed powers
Dance-floor of the Luney Jig;
Inhaling the Faery fumes of Awen—
Ivy, Hellebore, Laurel –
The Muse is speaking in the Dark_
The Heart opens;
The Mind is rushed with renewed powers
as the Moon dances over the fence
and far away—
Into the Garden of Three Roses_
Where the Poet awaits Her.
and far away—
Into the Garden of Three Roses_
Where the Poet awaits Her.
“But that’s not a Toadstool, Poet!” Themax said suddenly in the illuminating moonlight. “Don’t you know a Toadstool when you see one?”
