23 September 1992
It is almost time
The waning, reigning sun
now lends light only to the air
Nothing concrete is touched by it's light.

It is almost time
Soon all bright will be gone
And the Queen of the night will rise
shimmering pale and gentle
onto the throne
giving light only to the shadows
And in them the magic will grow
and move and shift
And the music will change
to cooler, sharper tones
filled with sounds unheard
but felt deep in the heart
of men's fear.

It is almost time
to bow deeply and don the power
we hide before the king
and pay homage
To render to her that which is ours
to lose and hers to give

It is almost time, my love
to dance before the blood bathed Queen.

9 December 1992
In the moonlight shadows
I, reptile like
changed my skin.
My arms and breast patterned blue
and gold by that precious light
And old lace.
In the warm daylight
I cannot imagine myself
That beautiful.

17 December 1992
Before sunset,
walking
with the strident cry
of confused geese in my ears
and all around the smells
of the earth so rich,
some sweet,
some herby,
others warm and musky,
thinking only of my breath
and the comfort of the trees
and their sexy smells,
I remember a day vividly,
lying on a grassy mound
in a strange place
I fell in love with the soil,
(the rich loamy stuff
from after the rain)
and I longed to plant
myself in that soil so rich,
to be buried
unclothed and unboxed
in the good stuff I was made of.

9 January 1993
Full Moon,
Sweating with heat
and fear,
like the dying
I clutch the bedclothes
for fear of slipping
through the looking glass
into this world
the god's have
filmed in day-for-night.

21 January 1993
I do not pray.
I feel the power
of the moon always,
causing my madness
my poems
my bleeding.
I see my blood
marking my life
my men.
I feel the solace
of darkness
outside
and within.
I hear the sound
of the thirsty earth
smacking it's lips at the rain.
I sense the ageless comfort
of trees for the wanderer.

I know all of these things.
I do not pray.
Prayer is the challenge
of the faithless;
"If you are there
give me a sign"
I need not pray,
My faith is unshaken.

6 May 1993
MOON MADNESS
I am standing in a room
on this,
The night of long shadows.
My naked flesh blue,
muscles twitching,
And I'm sure I can feel
my toenails growing.
I look out into
the light night
and see dark homes,
Then a shudder of relief;
There is no-one in the street,
For tonight,
The night of long shadows
I know that I could kill
and eat warm flesh,
stretch out in cool grass
and then curl up in sand
and sleep
smiling.

18 May 1993
We had seen
fairies fluttering
in a quiet space
we pegged as ours,
And too
had seen them
lose their wings
and wriggling,
die.

So, I am no witch
for having
in a box,
as a charm,
flying-ant wings.
They remind me
always of
flight
and fall.