Comes Lorraine

The Rain of Lore

Close upon the mists of morning,
neigh the purple blush of heather,
drifts the raven of rain and lore.

Down from mem’ried tears’ soft pining,
to up-swirled wings of yearning
echo the stories of ancient love –

comes the Goddess Aine of Light,
gather herds of questing children
to sing of rain ‘fore blake of dawn.

The Maid d’Orleans carried the Cross
of faith above and folded on
that all would know of lost Lorraine.

Here ‘tis a symbol of the Soul
that nurtures dreams and confounds wit
twixt rain and lore and Mother Earth.

. . . . . . . Bard of Lemuria


~ by faucon on February 4, 2007.

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