Cutting the whitethorn
inside a fairy fort
was much like committing suicide
and over time it became
common knowledge
much like finding a pot of gold
at the end of a rainbow
Magic of the druids
resided inside the ringforts
and anyone attempting
to penetrate the perimeter
between the morning hours
of one to five
were unlikely to leave
The Lios alive
june two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’ve been looking forward to nightfall of late
the daily routine having taken its toll
on this otherwise creative mind
it’s as if I’ve been beckoned by a shaman
or bitten by some magical practitioner’s bug
either promising to fly me over fields of fertility
long held sacred through the end of time
in the dead of the night good-natured fairies
pull me from my deep dark slumber
casting before my eyes colors I’ve not known
while unfolding even further possibilities
may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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