Everywhere I go_ Everywhere we drive_
Honeysuckles speaking on the breeze!
Wind like magick_ wakening poets in earnest,
Sailing in open cars_ all inspired! 1
Glenns and crags of flowered bushes
covered in ever-evanescent blossoms—
Joy-sprigs garlanding the being-of-all;
Blue against green_ soul-decorating! 2
Honeysuckles conquering by fragrance,
refreshing us into wakefulness;
a daily fare!
Azaleas, Forsythias; gone down wilted,
Honeysuckle Muses us into Summer! 3
Driving_ Aerosmith tunes on the radio_
‘Love in Elevators’ amuses and delights!
Pessimism of the boring world retreats;
_we seek Cambridge Scarlets for three. 4
Poetic Juices now ooze and wax the tapers
of Poetic Practitioners in open cars—
Dreaming of horse-drawn carriages in May,
traveling through an ever-Mused Country. 5
Awakening in an empowering gifting,
A Four-Fold Muse soars above our course
like the Morrígan in white-hot battle heat,
_we desire to be booned
by her mystic force! 6
Powered_ Sundered by HER; no longer adrift
—we seek-out covered bridges and there wait
for Ghosts of Summerwood to come and tell us
our fortunes in verse; inspiring humility! 7
“Ghost! Ghost! Can you show us, please,
our pathes – for we are witching Poets,
out on the prowl for Goddess-inspirations!
We wait, here, watching through windshields
and side windows_ under the spell of poiesis;
hoping for fragrant verses
with which to tell tales
inspired of aromatic honeysuckles
on the breeze!” 8
A muse-voiced singer on the radio inspires
prophetic verses in the car as we roam_
speaking about the arts_ thinking & making_
and how the Muse succors
her earthen servants! 9
There we meet Magdalena with Her old Owl,
And the cat of Angellique playing witchy!
Elisabeth has brought us all a Faery picnic,
Strange Christabell plays her harp_
elusive as ever! 10
Water flows, murmuring, beneath the old bridge
as Three Poets meet their True Mystic Guides;
locked in Honeysuckle daydreams retold
in Wildwoods where life so deftly abides. 11
“I am your Ghost, Good Olde Rhymster!”
“I am your Guide through velveting places!”
“I will be your Lover, if you will let me!”
“I will share with you all my Inner Worldings!” 12
_The Four-Fold Muse has spoken!
Cautious we get into their horse-drawn buggy;
together we ride
along Old Dirt Roads of Rustic Dreams.
All gladdened in this galivant-about-day;
Wherein honeysuckled Muses advent to play! 13
“Can you scent the Honeysuckle, speaking
in by-ways of the mysticism of summer?
Can you tell the tale we have told this day,
Ambling about_
being grafted onto the Holy Tree?” 14
“Welcome_ Summerwood’s Imagination;
we have been waiting for you to rune us!”
“Drive in the Open Aire and En-joy this life,
for the Mystery-of-All is coming clear_
quickening bliss!”
“We cannot sanction poetry, lest you desire
to know us in the knowing of the Earth!”
“We are your Muse, this day; gifting flowers
of arcane Honeysuckles
that suffuse the breeze!” 15
So mote it be!
Honeysuckles speaking on the breeze!
Wind like magick_ wakening poets in earnest,
Sailing in open cars_ all inspired! 1
Glenns and crags of flowered bushes
covered in ever-evanescent blossoms—
Joy-sprigs garlanding the being-of-all;
Blue against green_ soul-decorating! 2
Honeysuckles conquering by fragrance,
refreshing us into wakefulness;
a daily fare!
Azaleas, Forsythias; gone down wilted,
Honeysuckle Muses us into Summer! 3
Driving_ Aerosmith tunes on the radio_
‘Love in Elevators’ amuses and delights!
Pessimism of the boring world retreats;
_we seek Cambridge Scarlets for three. 4
Poetic Juices now ooze and wax the tapers
of Poetic Practitioners in open cars—
Dreaming of horse-drawn carriages in May,
traveling through an ever-Mused Country. 5
Awakening in an empowering gifting,
A Four-Fold Muse soars above our course
like the Morrígan in white-hot battle heat,
_we desire to be booned
by her mystic force! 6
Powered_ Sundered by HER; no longer adrift
—we seek-out covered bridges and there wait
for Ghosts of Summerwood to come and tell us
our fortunes in verse; inspiring humility! 7
“Ghost! Ghost! Can you show us, please,
our pathes – for we are witching Poets,
out on the prowl for Goddess-inspirations!
We wait, here, watching through windshields
and side windows_ under the spell of poiesis;
hoping for fragrant verses
with which to tell tales
inspired of aromatic honeysuckles
on the breeze!” 8
A muse-voiced singer on the radio inspires
prophetic verses in the car as we roam_
speaking about the arts_ thinking & making_
and how the Muse succors
her earthen servants! 9
There we meet Magdalena with Her old Owl,
And the cat of Angellique playing witchy!
Elisabeth has brought us all a Faery picnic,
Strange Christabell plays her harp_
elusive as ever! 10
Water flows, murmuring, beneath the old bridge
as Three Poets meet their True Mystic Guides;
locked in Honeysuckle daydreams retold
in Wildwoods where life so deftly abides. 11
“I am your Ghost, Good Olde Rhymster!”
“I am your Guide through velveting places!”
“I will be your Lover, if you will let me!”
“I will share with you all my Inner Worldings!” 12
_The Four-Fold Muse has spoken!
Cautious we get into their horse-drawn buggy;
together we ride
along Old Dirt Roads of Rustic Dreams.
All gladdened in this galivant-about-day;
Wherein honeysuckled Muses advent to play! 13
“Can you scent the Honeysuckle, speaking
in by-ways of the mysticism of summer?
Can you tell the tale we have told this day,
Ambling about_
being grafted onto the Holy Tree?” 14
“Welcome_ Summerwood’s Imagination;
we have been waiting for you to rune us!”
“Drive in the Open Aire and En-joy this life,
for the Mystery-of-All is coming clear_
quickening bliss!”
“We cannot sanction poetry, lest you desire
to know us in the knowing of the Earth!”
“We are your Muse, this day; gifting flowers
of arcane Honeysuckles
that suffuse the breeze!” 15
So mote it be!
[i] Originally 19 May 1991. Original version published in Tales from the Seasons (Authorhouse, 2008)
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