Well Met

met her on the mountains

wind nettled in her hair

red brushed through by finger’d draughts

her presence barely there

a wisp of lass, no more than ten

her breath a breeze in flight

cat-eyed maiden stole alone

cut swathes in misted night

passed through me in search of home

thought between we two

hurry back and mind your step

and sleep the whole night through

but stay an eye for feral beasts

keep one true for wild

a third you’ll need for pleasant folk

a fourth to save each child

fifth may penetrate the dark

and sixth shall make it clear

rest, be thankful but remain

alert, of list’ning ear,

met her on the mountains

outfoxed chill around

heard her hist’ry in my heart

her words in silent sound

met her once but ne’er forgot

each puzzled piece she told

maid of ten, or so I thought,

a child too soon grown old

wisdom of the ages

in the figure of a lass

red-haired, nettled, draughted, dead

met her in the Pass


Black And White

Clothed in bridal white, adorned,

Into misted woods,

Centred in the circular,

Vacantly she stood,

Awaiting fate, whatever hailed, thru

Wraith apparelled filter’d trees,

Wisps, through leaves, on silenced wings

Descend, she falls to knees,

Begs inside, a heartfelt prayer,

Though motionless her lips,

Redemption sought for all she’d wrought,

But terror tightly grips

Around and in and through her soul,

Stanching earthly breath,

Widened eyes and strangled moan

Survey an early death.

Dry her eyes, her mouth, her tongue

Cleaves inside, no sound

Could plea for mercy to this fate,

No soul for miles around.

Swoons to floor, soft carpet there

Of verdant life in form

Surrounded oval, toadstools share

Protection from all harm.

Returned to life, spectres depart,

Arrested in the glade,

Fey to foe, white magic saves

Hand of elven maid

Betrothed, from birth, to only one,

Composites compounded,

Separated by the vanquished

Now confused, confounded.

Dream walker sleeps from long ago

Wanders where she’s led,

Awakes unto her destiny,

Intended faerie bed.

If, in dreams, a voice calls forth,

Distresses nightly prayer,

Remember magic of the night,

There’s black and white to spare.


May Music, Day 11 – There can be only one…..

Ghost-filled glens, mist enshrouded massacres from old hospitality creep onto and under my skin. Halting in the Pass of Glencoe, shuddering and shaking with immortal cold, only desiring escape from palpable venom and yesterday’s wars. Photographers click. I run. Back and away. Twenty-six years and ten months ago. Love, newly embraced, threatened by death between mountains.

So brief, this voyage,

love and lands glimpsed and wished

thru’ life dream’s passing lights,

peeped portholes of discovery,

vessels buoyed and storm-tossed

in fleeting nights.


pirated insecurity,

priced to always pay

in loving lost,

no sanctioned entitlement

to one second of one day.

Risk is all,

gameplay on high seas,

atop mountains, in glen,

untouchable reality,

all knowledge

without ken.

Love, the alchemy,

banish broadswords


one challenging another to

supremacy over death

inevitable. Hold steady.

Peaked waterfalls fill

unconscious streams, spilling

elixir into life-giving lochs.

Ocean’s tumult,

earth’s quake,


Haar-swathed eternities,


castles in the air,

whorls of great illusion,

created in and from time. Immortality, 

one love, should we dare.

So, now I hope you can see why I couldn’t possibly share my favourite song from my favourite band for yesterday’s post because it is from my favourite movie. And what’s not to love? It has everything. Romance, some sex, a bonnie lassie, love, hate, evil, good, a conquering hero, an enemy, hope, immortality, Queen’s soundtrack.

‘And shiiit, it even haash me, Sean Connery. Shum shings jusht don’t get any bettur. And Chrishtopher Lambert’sh acshent ish almosht aash good aash mine. And mine haash sherved me well. Even when I waash a Russian.’

Hope you don’t mind I cheated a bit for yesterday’s question, Twindaddy. I thought Yoda could explain.