Sisters spellbound
Home
Written Magic
Blog
Sisters spellbound
Home
Written Magic
Blog
More
  • Home
  • Written Magic
  • Blog
  • Sign In
  • Create Account

  • Orders
  • My Account
  • Signed in as:

  • filler@godaddy.com


  • Orders
  • My Account
  • Sign out

Signed in as:

filler@godaddy.com

  • Home
  • Written Magic
  • Blog

Account

  • Orders
  • My Account
  • Sign out

  • Sign In
  • Orders
  • My Account

Trees of the Wood -

Dark Queen of the Glen

Dark Queen of the Glen

Dark Queen of the Glen

Oak Warrior of Truth and Blade

Strong against the North Wind

of Battle, holding the line

A wren calls your ancient name

the echo in your acorns

the heft of centuries

in your limbs

Brigid's blessings

under your leaves

Mighty are the doorways

made of you

Mother Hazel

Dark Queen of the Glen

Dark Queen of the Glen

Lovely in her luster

wrapped in a soft brown shawl of wisdom

poems dance in her branches

plaited into her leaves

The Crane flies above her

calling for her second sight

Will it be a cold winter

Mother knows of course

Eat her mast to know for yourself

Mother likes the old ways

when proper respect was paid

when the land and sea and sky

held the people close

She misses the wors

the whispered blessings

yet the omens hint

perhaps the people awaken

Mother will be ready

Old Woman Holly

Dark Queen of the Glen

Old Woman Holly

In my red cap of berries

dark glas-grey-green my skin

starlings chatter at me

but I don't mind them

Misunderstood am I

Some think me ill fortune

Some find me festive

the old ones planted my children

near their doorways

adorned their midwinter halls


Leave me to my business

let the birds gossip

let the trees murmur

I care not for crowns or laurels

I am plain in my blood-red cap

Matriarch Yew

Madame Blackthorn

Old Woman Holly

Many a graveyard I guard

Keeping vigil, keeping watch

scores of swans have I seen

sibling of the silver Birch

once I was called


Favored, if notfavorable

for harm flows within me

Host for the Good Folk

red-speckled and wary

woe to the people unwise

to my ways, to my presence

Lady Wild Apple

Madame Blackthorn

Madame Blackthorn

Wild since yore 

In Glens and Glades

Bitter at first bite 

Temptation 

Is not my way

Is not a sin

My fruit takes work

Patiently passionate

Plucked after first frost 

Wild as the Good Folk

Favored in their feasts

Bounty of old Gods

No luscious liquid

No perfect flesh

My bite is bracing

Taste the Wild

Find the old Songs

In my pips

Madame Blackthorn

Madame Blackthorn

Madame Blackthorn

Within dark bark

Below roots woven

Beats Madame’s pulse

Fire of spirit

Magic of mind

Dryad to no one

What do you ask

of the wizened One

who waits in the dark

Her wick burns hot

alive, pulsing red

in Her shadow form

Please Her

you must

if boons you seek

Please Her not

and Her grin glows

with prickled delight

Ancestor Elm

Grandmother Elder

Grandmother Elder

Before the Tuatha I was here

Before stone pillars

Before burial mounds

The people came

Cutting me,

Shaping me

their bows and coffins


I endure

moths flitting

in my hair

holy wells my close companions

If you are gifted

a sturdy branch

a slender twig

let it lead your vision

Your dreams shall come

to pass

Grandmother Elder

Grandmother Elder

Grandmother Elder

Come to me not

with your whining

I have no patience

for whims and worries

Limbs taken from me

without my leave

Woe to thee


Never a cradle,

Always a switch

or so say

the wise women

Starlings squabble

cursing the dusk grey


protection, perhaps,

will be my gift to thee,

if you bring me cream

and soothe my body

with soft hands

Willow Woman

Grandmother Elder

Mistress Spindle

I still hear the strings

music plucked, nimble fingers

the harper paid in mead


I still hear the bees buzz

combing the strands of my branches

with their soft whisper wings


I still see the baskets

the coffins woven

a tender frame for the dead


I still see the hawks

fine colored and deadly

watching mice scurry under my feet


I still know their voices

the ones who came before

with messages for their progeny

Mistress Spindle

Wild Cherry Hermit

Mistress Spindle

Prickle prickle

weave your thread

trap each stitch

don't lose your head


none but goats

will dare my seed

orange and red

my autumn leaf


Moths do nestle

in my bower

a druid's trap

against Aengus Og


Make your needles

from my flesh

Prickle prickle

with each stitch

Strawberry Sister

Wild Cherry Hermit

Wild Cherry Hermit

In the days of Bronze

I was here

ruddy red brown

and glossy sheen

watching over

Galway Bay


Jackdaws nattering

near my berries

a not so common

Commoner, says the Brehons

for many never tasted

my blushed fruit


Still and all

I warmed the people

and watched the Bay

never speaking what

Diarmid and Graine knew


For you see

the secret way

to youth everlasting

or so they say

for those lucky

who learned my ways

Wild Cherry Hermit

Wild Cherry Hermit

Wild Cherry Hermit

In St John's Wood

seek me out

wild robins in my hair

dressed in 

purple-red jewels

a prize for seeking


The bards knew me

coaxing life from harps

built of me,

and captured summer sun

in the reverberations


Not so grand as some

but have you tasted

anything as sweet

as luscious

as my bounty

Copyright © 2024 Sisters Spellbound - All Rights Reserved.

Powered by

  • Blog
  • The Morrigan
  • Brigid
  • The Dagda
  • Medb
  • Tree Spirits
  • Gods and Spirits

This website uses cookies.

We use cookies to analyze website traffic and optimize your website experience. By accepting our use of cookies, your data will be aggregated with all other user data.

Accept