Archive | April 3, 2015

Poetry Month – Bob Franke

Beggars to God – Bob Franke

The song of Gypsy Davy rang

Delighted through the night

The wise and foolish virgin

Kept her candles burning bright

Rise up my young and foolish one

And follow if you can,

There’ll be no need for candles

In the arms of such a man.

Make love to each other

Be free with each other

Be prisoners of love ’til you lie in the sod

Be friends to each other

Forgive one another

See God in each other

Be beggars to God.

The night was cold and dark and wet

As they wandered on alone.

The sky became their canopy

The earth became their throne

And as their raiment ran to rags

They thought it nothing wrong

For earth and sky are robe enough

When you sing the gypsie’s song.

They sang and played the gypsy song

Wherever they were sent

To some it seemed a dancing tune

To some a sad lament.

But in every heart that heard them true

A tear became a smile

And the pauper or a prince

Became the gypsy for awhile.

Poetry Month makeup

A Tree Song”

OF all the trees that grow so fair,

Old England to adorn,

Greater are none beneath the Sun,

Than Oak, and Ash, and Thorn.

Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good sirs,

(All of a Midsummer morn!)

Surely we sing no little thing,

In Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Oak of the Clay lived many a day,

Or ever AEneas began.

Ash of the Loam was a lady at home,

When Brut was an outlaw man.

Thorn of the Down saw New Troy Town

(From which was London born);

Witness hereby the ancientry

Of Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Yew that is old in churchyard-mould,

He breedeth a mighty bow.

Alder for shoes do wise men choose,

And beech for cups also.

But when ye have killed, and your bowl is spilled,

And your shoes are clean outworn,

Back ye must speed for all that ye need,

To Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Ellum she hateth mankind, and waiteth

Till every gust be laid,

To drop a limb on the head of him

That anyway trusts her shade:

But whether a lad be sober or sad,

Or mellow with ale from the horn,

He will take no wrong when he lieth along

‘Neath Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Oh, do not tell the Priest our plight,

Or he would call it a sin;

But – we have been out in the woods all night,

A-conjuring Summer in!

And we bring you news by word of mouth-

Good news for cattle and corn-

Now is the Sun come up from the South,

With Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good sirs

(All of a Midsummer morn):

England shall bide ti11 Judgment Tide,

By Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Ahhh, I forgot it was Poetry Month,

The Goddess is dark and beautiful with knowing eyes.

The Goddess is old and walks with a cane.

The Goddess is the colour of rich cream and is surrounded by art.

The Goddess is the colour of brick dust and watches over the flocks surrounded by no one.

The Goddess is pink, flushed from a race.

The Goddess is pale and sits alone in the dark.

The Goddess is small and wizened with dark eyes.

The Goddess is round and strong with muscular arms from hard work.

The Goddess is thin and ill and labours to breathe for it is work.

The Goddess stands with arms out blessing her gardens and fields.

The Goddess is dying in her bed surrounded by ones who love her.

The Goddess dies alone on a dirty street ignored with the trash.

The Goddess cries at injustice and pain and abuse.

The Goddess walks strongly on mountain path leading children of all shapes sizes and colours.

The Goddess follows behind and hopes she makes a difference.

The Goddess is in everyone of us.

The Goddess looks like us.

The Goddess is in the mirror.

Listen to her.

©2014 Kat Robb

Today’s reading

 image

  Dedication
Nine of Arrows

The spiritual warrior dedicates their arrows of inspiration by playing the bow as an instrument. The inner oath helps keep one on a balanced footing by dedicating skills to a greater good.

…playing a bow (it can be used as a shamanic instrument).

…spiritual dedication and musical skill generating healing energy.

Being at one with your inner heart.