They say that mermaids were invented
in the minds of lonely sailors
as they set out to find their fortune
beyond the empty seas.
Their minds made lovely voices
of the whisper of the waves,
caresses of the tug of winds,
and kisses of the salt laced breeze.
Be warned, it’s said, the truth will set you free
We see how things are and how they’re meant to be.
It’s hard to live in a world full of lies
With truth, ever present, pressed behind your eyes.
Fabricated meanings, unravel in the light
Revelation is bondage, this clarity our plight
When people are blinded, searching in vain
Those who see clearly are deemed quite insane
You search for truth, but beware you will find,
The world wont reflect what is clear in your mind
For once the truth begins to unfold,
You will see ugliness in what you’ve been told
Now we know truth, you would think we’d be glad
But if truth is freedom, being free drove us mad.
written in 2012
Sometime late September, when the evenings are less fair, If you listen very closely you will hear the whispers in the air.
Of the goblins, sprites, and ghouls, and all the wicked sort.
Of the wild, old, and free, and of the Autumn Court
Mothers and Fathers bring children in,
before the sun goes down.
For fear of the wile and wicked things,
The changing brings to town.
The dog days are over, with all summer fun.
And faced with the school year, children will run.
Away to the woods, lured by Pixies and Fey,
Who linger by windows, to take children away.
To the endless October in the big wondrous wood,
Wouldn’t you join them if only you could?
There live the Autumn King and Queen with all their wild things,
And within all children, large and small, there lurks a wildling
The Autumn King smells like dark soil and fog, he’s cold and a little grey.
He’s the chill that settles deep in your bones at the end of a long Autumn’s day.
He brings the death of summer, and beats back the winter winds.
He tames the dead and ghastly, and the goblins wicked whims.
The Autumn Queen’s quite different from the strange, old, mysterious King.
Her hair is as orange as Maples, and her skin’s flushed pink from dancing.
Foxes, Fairies and Woodland Beasts they love her one and all.
She is the warm October sun, and smells like frosted leaf fall.
The goblin king lives deep in the forest, not found till you’ve lost your way.
But the queen’s home is the entire wood, open wide for her fairies to play.
So run little children, be free, but take care
As you trade out the flowers for leaves in your hair.
Fairies and foxes may come to play
And beg you to waste the days away.
But they will be gone with the cold winter frost
And old man winter is not kind to the lost.
So as the days get dark, make your way home
Where your parents have places to settle your bones
The woods are where adventure and imagination abound.
But home has warmth, comfort, and love to be found.