Stags of yore

You enter the shaded woodland
As the sun dips in the sky
Blues fading to golden pinks and reds
The horns take shape inside your head
That freedom flows through your veins
Surrounding you, trees seal your fate.
Dancing heart joyous mind
Lifted above beyond your kind
Baser knowledge of a life once known
Aware that you are more than you showed
To anyone
Who ever sees inside your head
Horns are waiting on golden threads
Free you so you can run and prance
It doesn’t need to be a tuneful romance
That takes you on a whirling chase
Or lead you to a higher sense of grace
Pull out the horns and care not what
You may have or even not!
Do only as you think you should
Whether it be bad or good
Give yourself another day and night
Before the world begins to bite

Ailsa

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Author: ailsacawley

I have written since I can remember. First inspired by the wonderful stories of Roald Dahl, the Brothers Grimm etc. I adore myths and magic of all sorts, though I read so many genres it's impossible to classify it all!! Some of my poetry is truth with a healthy (or unhealthy depending on your view!),dose of magic and fiction and others are pure fiction. I'll leave you to decide for yourself which those are! Please stop by and enjoy and glad to make your acquaintance. Feel free to leave a comment 🙂

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