I went out to the hazel - wood
Because a fire was in my head
Cut and peeled a hazel - wand
Tied a berry to a thread
And when white moths were on the wing
And moth - white stars were flickering out
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout...
I had but laid it on the bank
And gone to blow the fire a-flame
Something rustled in the air
Something called me by my name!
It had become a glimmering Girl
With apple - blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name, and ran
And vanished in the brightening air...
Though I am old, with wandering
Thru hilly lands, and hollow lands;
I'll find out where she has gone
To seek her lips, to take her hands-
And walk through long green dappled grass;
To pluck 'til Time, and times are done:
The Silver Apples of the Moon;
The Golden Apples of the Sun...
This site has received 11281562 hits since Aug 4, 2000
The entire content of all public pages in The Pagan Library (graphics, text and HTML) are free information, released under the terms of the GPL. All copyrighted items mentioned are the property of their respective owners, and no form of ownership or endorsement is implied.
Last modified: June 12 2016 13:20:31