Awakening

Sitting here I wait for the right time to show

My face to you each season

Now I’m young again the reborn one

Of our pack no longer hobbling on

The stick taken from a branch to aid me

As the final season aches my back so

I appear withered when I’m merely tired

In need of sleep so I can return and help

The maiden when she wakes from her sleep

Stretching out in all her splendour

Fingers crooking and every year I am

Entranced again and we work as one

Through the trees I watch and wait for her

To return once more

As we are young together we grow old, tired

Withering and wizened in need of sleep

Resting the long winter

So the greenery lives again and I the man

The Green Man and my maiden are young again.

For @thewombwellrainbow. com

Picture credit: Green Man by John Law

©AilsaCawleyPoetry2020

Author: ailsacawley

I have written since I can remember, devouring the stories of Roald Dahl under the covers by torchlight. I have always loved fairy tales, myths and magic. A good deal of the things I write has some truth in it. Others, not. I’m pleased you dropped by, please feel free to leave me a comment or if you’re kind enough to share that’s fine. ☺️

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