Winter Goddess, Anna Coote [best book club books for discussion txt] 📗

INDEX

1. The Full Circle
2. Mr. Freeze
3. The Dance of Spring
4. Discarded Furniture
5. Revenge of Mother Earth
6. Down to Earth Poetry
7. Lughnasadh - First Harvest
8. Old Roads
9. A blessing at Mabon / Autumn Equinox
10. The Darkness Within
11. A Prayer to Mother Moon
12. La Cavalla Bianca
13. Just Ask
14. The Artist
15. The Dance
16. Despair
17. Down to Earth Poetry


The Full Circle

The moon is full, belly swollen & ripe, a blanket of stars in her wake
I pray to the Goddess to see us through the pull & the push of her birth
Shadows cast, on the green of the land as an alter to her sake
Play out their crude plays in the still of the night, all across the earth

The Eternal Mother she knows my name, she whispers & gently breathes it out
But no mortal fear, only immortal love can ever remove all my doubt
O ÉRIU, my Goddess; I call to the moon & to the beauty of the night
My form on her lips, she dances across the sky, the darkness fleeing her might
‘Come up my love, come up to the heavens & play awhile in my great arc’
But still I doubt, but still I fear- it seems so far, the road so dark
‘No hurt and no pain can ever reach you here, up here you can forget all’
The journey too long, my will to live lost along the way; I fear to fall...
I fear to live, yet fear to die, the moon so strong yet I so weak and frail
My emotions like rivers, the pull of the tide, her light leaves everything pale
I fight the longing she stirs in me, the dark place hidden in my dark chest..
Yet the moon doesn’t falter she still whispers to me ‘my love, ALL my Children are blessed.


Mr. Freeze

I wake at night, dark thoughts in my mind & feel a chill enter my bed
Like a lover's hands upon my neck, at my throat & around my head
Under my covers it makes its way & lays down beside my shivering form
Stealing all the warmth but sweetly too I prepare myself for the icy storm

The cold is in my bones now, creeping slowly up & down my spine
Whispering intimately in my ear, 'my dear soon you will be mine'
Gripping me with icy hands, long fingers made of cold hard steel
Urging me towards ultimate rest, how good would it be not to feel

Frosty breath upon my skin, tingling & longing with each sweet caress
Heat blowing out with every shivering sigh, but each time less & less
My lover's kiss must be embraced, my body knows no other way
'So soon my dear, we'll be as one', I seem to hear him softly say

'Rest thee now in my sweet arms, no fear you'll ever need to know,
I'll take thee to my winter place where none of your worries will dare to go
I'll draw the cold above thy head & kiss away your cold blue lips
Our love will be as a honey drink of which we'll take everlasting sips'

My body numb yet more alive than ever was before the chill
I cry clear ice which cannot melt & know my love will do his will
Resistance gone I fight no more, feel him hard & cold with all my heart
My breath in gasps the cold takes over, I'm freezing ...freezing part by part

His movement fast I ride the wave, the icy storm that breaks my shore
I cannot move though burning inside, the cold is fighting to my core
One last push, my lover wins & my breath screams out one last ecstatic time
He looks down at my frozen form & with triumph cries- 'now you are really mine!'


The Dance of Spring

Written for my dancing friend & all the wonderful dancing Goddess' I am blessed to have in my life!

The people sit close together, the light of the fire on their form
Excitement...anticipation... burn in the smoke like the air just before a storm
And STORM she is, this dancer.... O beautiful One
HUSH falls... as they hear her softly approaching
Shadows fleeing before her as she halts their encroaching
They whisper as she nears... their Goddess has arrived... she comes, she comes
Her feet pick the beat, she commands the ground.... the drums, the drums
This sacred place has been hers since ages long past
She moves to dance life in the Earth, winter over at last
She dances for all, for spring that will come-
The return of the light, the promise of sun
Her people moving with her at last, their bodies long to share
The fire light shimmers on her skin and dances in her hair
They sway, back and forth, start to shake with the force, many moving together as one
At first the dance seems graceful and lean but quickly becomes hard and strong

(RHYTHM SPEEDS UP)

The drums beat fast, feet fleeting over ground and weaving through the air
Hearts beating wildly, the firelight flairs over each dancer without a care
The Goddess in the centre commands the dance, each dancer in her hand
Her shimmering form seems to melt in the fire, shadows whirling across the land

(PAUSE 5 HEARTBEATS... RHYTHM SLOW AGAIN)

The people awake, as if from a dream, dawn approaching across the trees
The fire burnT low, the warmth of the night seems forgotten in the gentle breeze
But in the red of the fire where the embers glow, there seems to be a faint stirring
The birth of a Goddess, twirling and spinning, the promise of spring in her dancing.


Discarded Furniture

If I were some type of old worn-out furniture I wonder what type would I be?
A cracked threadbare armchair, sagging and used, would that be me?
Or a kitchen table, where the family once laughed, knocked around and scuffed
The edges all broken and the colour faded, the legs kicked & roughed?
An old rocking chair with a missing arm, chipped and worn around the edges,
Fallen down shelves, piled too high, unread books falling off the ledges
A burnt-out stove, glass broken & scratched, the oven doors fallen off & forgotten
Or maybe a photo-frame which once contained smiles, now all twisted & rotten?
Would I be an old sofa, whose bottom’s fallen out, springs like dirty old bones?
Left for dead on the side of the road with all the junk that nobody owns
If I were a piece of thrown-away furniture what type would I be?
But if shiny and new, bubble-wrapped & packed, would you still have discarded me?


Revenge of Mother Earth

Mother Earth, Isis (Egyptians), Gaia (Greek), Asasa Yaa (West Africa), Frigga (Norse), Danu or Eriu (Celtic)

Drink and sleep, sink and deep
Don't wake Her now, don't shake Her bough
Earth is dark, all in Her arc
She comes for us; the Tree Goddess

Her twisted form, bark broken and torn
What have we done? Put out the sun?
Rust and hate, poison and bait
Black the water, uprooted Her daughter
The sky it weeps, acid in the deeps
She comes for us; the Tree Goddess

Beware her lair! Her cold dark stare
The damage done, where to run?
Night draws near, she eats our fear
Gnarled and repelled, beauty un-paralleled
Her Might a spear, Her anger austere
Hard and unfaltering, love pure and un-altering
She comes for us; the Tree Goddess


Down to Earth Poetry

I long to read poetry and know just what it means
Not caviar or Cordon’bleu; but sausage, egg & beans

Easy on the mind, soft to the ear and warm on the throat
Like well-worn slippers, milky tea or a comfy over-coat

Wrapped brown bread from the corner shop or fresh from the van
Not ‘oooh la la’ or ‘va va voom’, sure I’ll eat it from the can

Serve it up on a paper plate or in a chipped white bowl
With home-grown veg & free-range eggs & a crispy white roll

I don’t want my brain to hurt- trying to analyse the prose
Daffs & daisys are fine for me; no hybrid, over-bred rose

Don’t want to feel thick, so I clap when I think it’s the right time
Though I haven’t really got a clue, hey it doesn’t even rhythm

Syntax, rhetoric, metaphor; sonnets, syllables and ode
Make me want to curl up in a ball or head for the road

Stick it in a pair of old green wellies & bring it for a walk down the fields
Get it stuck in cow muck, splattered in mud & covered in weeds!

I want to write poetry that’s down to earth so people understand & know it
If I haven’t done that, please be kind for I’m only a humble poet!


Lughnasadh (First Harvest)

Celtic festival of light, gratitude & celebrating the first harvest of fruit, veg, grain etc.
Lugh is the foster son of the Goddess Tailtiu of the Tuatha Dé Dannon who was said to have given her own life so the harvest would be successful to feed her people at a time of hardship, hunger & captivity.
Lugh is said to have initiated the festival to mark her funeral & to celebrate his victory over the giant Balor.Lugh is known as ‘the bright & shining one’, the Master of Crafts & Skills.

Lugh, O bright & shining one, smith of the Golden Eye
Fill our hearts with grateful song- O Great Bard of the sky
Master of skills lend your wisdom & strength as we gather on your land
Giving thanks for the knowledge, skills and crafts taught by your fair hand
Bless this crop of fruit and grain, first harvest of the year
Mother Ériu swell us now with abundance, light and cheer
Gratitude overcomes for bounty great, seeded and rich from Mother Earth
As we prepare for the cold ahead and gather food & warmth to the harth
Lughnasadh is a feast for learning & sharing, hard work, merriment & fun
The wheel will turn as from times long past, but still we dance in the sun


OLD ROADS

Old roads from the past I ramble along
Each one seemed so long then
Reminding me of the person I used to be
The person I worked so hard not to be
Roads are unchanging, verges un-taming
Was this really the road I walked down?
Smiles on the outside, staying on the outside
The road has a message
In its uneven bumps, in its potholes and clumps
Ditches and corners and rusty old gates
It seems greyer now, the vivid colours of youth
Gone- in the blink of an eye
If I meet myself around a dusty corner
What will I say, how can I look her in the eye
Knowing what she knows, her secrets untold
So I keep my eyes down and walk quickly past
Aware it may well be the last
Long and dusty old road I ramble along


A Blessing at Mabon/Autumn Equinox

The summer is over but winter not yet begun
The Goddess & God in balance & harmony as One
Light & the darkness, equal together makes