Beneath the Yew

Leaning Yew, Faery LaneBeneath the yew
I leave the summer.
I set my strife
and troubles aside
without a rue.

Without a rue
I claim my passage.
To dampened soils
and shadowed halls
I clamber through.

I clamber through
to night-time forests
where fingertips
of magic lift
the soaring moon.

The soaring moon
augments the darkness.
Upon the abyss
of silent peace
a bird’s song moves.

A bird song moves
the rising heavens
and dryads dance
arboreal trance
amidst the roots.

Amidst the roots
green needles flourish.
I meet the people
who keep the deep
and feed on mushrooms.

I eat the mushrooms.

I cannot return
to the city
of reality.

Trouble and strife
set aside
I leave for summer
from beneath the leaning yew.

Mushrooms on a log beneath the leaning yew

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6 thoughts on “Beneath the Yew

  1. Reblogged this on Blau Stern Schwarz Schlonge and commented:
    I love the poetry of Lorna Smithers and especially this one with its repeating last and first lines. From her About page – I’m a poet and philosophy postgraduate living in Penwortham in Lancashire. My work is inspired by the Bardic Tradition and focuses on nature, local history and British mythology. ‘Proud of Preston’, an address to the city by Belisama, goddess of the river Ribble won the Preston Guild Poetry Competition in 2012. I have been published in The Dawntreader, Myths Inscribed and Heroic Fantasy Quarterly. I perform regularly in and around Preston. The poems on this blog reflect my path as a Druid Bard, sharing my relationship with the land, my gods and the changing seasons.

    * Peneverdant was the name of Penwortham in the Domesday book. Rev. W. Thornber takes it to mean ‘the green hill on the water.’

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