A Visit From Gwynn ap Nudd Or ‘Twas the Night Before Solstice by Natalie Reed Upon the sacred Tor I sit A fire of Oak, Ash, Thorn is lit I close my eyes, ask what I seek Wisdom is not for the meek Tales of mystic hero lore Memories from the days of yore Look…
By Charlotte Hussey I ride on the back of a salmon, listening to the swish of the overhanging branches. They rush by rustling overhead, to the slap of his tail against water. He slides, rippling between boulders and plunges us upriver. Choppy waves lap the limestone banks, their echoes filled with the susurrations of…
Kathleen Lowe In the hush of late autumn, when the mist hangs low and the forest floor softens with fallen leaves, the Lady of the Wood awakens. She does not come with the bright call of spring, nor the song of summer thrush, she comes quietly, cloaked in grey and green, with moss at her…
Fin (the Owl of Cwm Cawlwyd) by Jenny Bates It’s raining, and my dreams of an evening meal feel like a wet discarded rag. It’s a blanket of a day. Wisely, I wrap my disappointment around me and dream of fish; whose fins carry them through water like my wings through air. It’s ironic being…
Desert Rose By Heather Elizabeth Warren Her mother dropped her in the dry, undernourished soil Alone, without others to tend her Invisible, nearly dead Standing still With little ground to walk on sun with a scarce few dew drops is what she fed on somehow she blooms by the miracle of perseverance & stillness no…
By Charlotte Hussey At dawn I drop armfuls of leafy plants, buds on slender stalks, frail, scented blossoms, hundreds upon hundreds— into a vat of river water. I stir from edge to center, chaos to order, watch sunlight reflect off the pin-wheeling liquids, ridged with tiny waves, like crimped, opening petals. Slowly the…