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Sat, 01 Aug 2009
Morgana Elfinstone, a new tale from Classic Willow. Enjoy

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Morgana Elfinstone.

Morgana Elfinstone is Queen of mysteries and things unseen - dressed in kirtle stitched with stars, she rules the gardens of men's hearts.
From her palace on the Moon she plucks a thousand perfumed tunes from a harp whose strings are light strung upon the frame of Night.
Over hills and meadows green, her music drifts in sonorous streams into souls awake or sleeping, into hearts at ease or weeping.

At her touch the greatest schemes of Kings and Princes are halted, empires crumble, beggars are exalted; the orphan born in sorrow's dust is 'throned upon high Heaven's cusp, the iron gates of Purgatory are covered with blossoms of rust.
Angels of the Seven Skies deem her terrible and wise; Demons of the Ancient Wastes bow before her hidden face.

Amongst the spirits of the dead I sometimes hear her gentle tread; in woodlands where the unborn wait before the field's of Earth's dim gate Morgana Elfinstone is Queen of mysteries and things unseen.
In dreams her handmaidens caress the brows of youths and maidens breasts; they sprinkle childrens sleep with stars from sun-encrusted night-black jars.

On the rosy lawns of Dawn the infants of her joy are born;
dew-kissed flowers shew the way
on the pathways of the day.
The Sun and Moon, at her command, rise and set from her two hands; at her request the wind and rain invigorate the hills and plains.
She gathers up the hopes and fears of men and women, their joys and tears, and from the passions of the free she weaves a coloured tapestry.

Gods and Elohim on high perceive her not, nor can descry the subtleties of her Art or read the secrets of her heart.
Haloed with the precious jewels of arching rainbows and mountain pools, the gems that sleep within the earth dream of future splendour's birth upon the meadows of her breast
where the coloured dreams of poets rest and dreams of men and women fair pass upon the
Posted 09:09

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