Tag: myth

Butterfly wings

Paper thin and fragile she’s observed the butterfly wings
That adorn and illuminate her being
Lights in her eyes fresher
Once or twice maybe more the gossamer threads inside
Were cut
With thoughtless abandon dashing a heart
To pieces in her breast
The scars are healing,  fading away to silver
The pulling at her shoulders feeling like boulders weighing
Heavy cumbersome
Sunlight reflects in the pool where faeries play
Showing the wings of rainbow hues at her back
Delicate yes
One thought the proof of existence as they wave on a breeze
And she is ready to fly
Go where her heart takes her and she has control
Of her soaring destiny

Ailsa
©AilsaCawleyPoetry 2016

©AilsaCawleyPoetry2016

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Gorgon to dust

Through the crowd they appeared to her
the tormentor
Every nightmare a walking flesh wound dealt, felt
It was then she decided to face it
Head on
Though her heart beat so fast she feared it’s escape
Facing this gorgon of her waking hours
Who held every dream and tried to crush it
To dust
Smile painted on she greets the night fear
The terror of every living hour 
Deciding a fake grin and a proof of life after
Are necessary
Even if the arm pulling her away wants to avoid
She has to face down the power to destroy
It once had
Watching it as it squirms under a level gaze
No longer
The frightened child willing to believe in half truths
Blatant lies or dusty fables fed to kill her
The girl has demolished the demons power
No more running
Her mind given new life, finally.

Ailsa
©AilsaCawleyPoetry 2016

©AilsaCawleyPoetry2016

Rhiannon

Taking a circuitous route to the room that sets us free
For an hour,  a while, you her and me
For we are one another Rhiannon the wild gypsy
And the quieter more held back side of she
In a tangle of warmth and sweaty Iimbs we join
I am Rhiannon she is me
All of the fears that I held in my heart leave on the wind 
As our hearts and limbs entangle, quicken
It matters not that we pull off the sheets
Or lie spent and happy without a doubt of the great beat
Hear it on the same breeze getting louder still 
Time for us to curb the wildness take a calmer pill
I do not wish to have the time back I discovered something new
I am always that Rhiannon, the gypsy wild heart remains true
So the one who thinks to hurt with bold words in my head
My heart and soul still play a song while yours is truly dead.

Ailsa
©AilsaCawley Poetry 2015

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