Category: Magical Tales


Inspired by an ancient waymarker in a silent churchyard way up on Exmoor; a land that has so many tales to tell, if only it could…..

A solitary waymarker stands tall, marking the boundary of the graveyard; a tick upon the land. No blood, no sign of any struggle, not now.

A girl long ago cruelly hunted down and burned, leaving no trace; just ashes, dust scattered to the winds on that wild and desolate moor, where these days only the wind howls to the moon.

Not for the likes of her sweet and loving soul, the serenity of a consecrated graveyard. Not for the likes of her the dignity of remembrance. Not for the likes of her an epitaph carved lovingly in stone; only the winds and rain to wash away all traces.

All she did was to fall in love, to surrender her heart and soul to the one who loved her back.  All she did was fall in love wildly with a passion of her being way beyond her years. All she did was fall in love with a dark and wild immortal with the wind in his hair and the moon in his eyes. All she did was to allow him to love her back.

All she did was to kiss him on that wet and stormy night in that dark, desolate graveyard way up there upon the moors. It was all she did, one kiss, one passionate and rain-soaked kiss.  It was all she did, she fell in love with the immortal with the wind in his hair.

Some nights when wandering up there on the wild moors, one can almost catch the movement of shadows out of the corner of one’s eyes. One can almost hear the rustling of wet leaves and the sound of damp footsteps running frantically through the graveyard.

One can almost imagine in the darkness, the waymarker with the sturdy gorse bush still growing at its foot after all these years, on an otherwise dry patch of lifeless earth where nothing else will ever grow. And if one was to imagine sinking down upon one’s hands and knees under the waymarker, one can almost see the rivulets of blood running forth onto wet saturated garments in the rain; up there on the moors.

And some nights when the moon is round and the air is dry it is not hard to imaging a lonely cloaked figure under the waymarker scraping away at the parched black earth where nothing lives. One could almost imagine a figure with the wind in his hair, uncovering an old and crumbling piece of wood tossed away in haste by those who feared a vengeful god and who had time and guilt on their hands; a simple weapon that had long ago pierced his lover’s trusting heart.

One could almost imagine
Almost
Whilst up there on the moors….

marker.png 3

Exmore 1

Adueni ‘Keeper of Scrolls’

May 2016

Very happy to be posting my last week of offerings in respect of NaPoWriMo 2017; it has been a pleasure sharing and of course an even greater pleasure reading all the very inspirational poems from my fellow poets. It has been a great event once again 🙂

 

April 24th

Secrets lost in time
Standing steadfast on the shores
Hidden in plain sight

No name on this cross
History and truth erased
Knowledge in silence…

 

April 25th

Tales written in stone
Stories inscribed within trees
Encoded in time

 

April 26th

Dancing in the green of the land

And revelling in the seduction of one’s senses

As the fecundity of being becomes an intimacy

Transcending physical space

Relishing life’s purpose laid bare

Upon the tracing board of time

Knowing our geometry was duly mapped by

A greater architect

Accepting what is

Allowing the weave of design and destiny

To track its eager fingers upon our hearts

Over every contour of its pre-planned route

Let life come as a secret lover upon the stairs

Allow each creak and hesitation

To heighten all senses

Dance in the delight of the becoming

Tread not lightly when the flowing sands of time

Shatter into a myriad of broken shards

Reflecting perceptions of identity

That sparkle in the dawn

Dance in life’s ecstasy with all of your being

And care not when the clock strikes midnight

For in the intimacy of your becoming

You will at last let go

 

April 27th

By the great sun’s wheel

We are mapped from birth to death

Yet what lies beyond?


April 28th

Colour’s spectrum reigns

Under the great rainbow arch

Love and Light are we

 

April 29th

Inspired by a waymarker in a churchyard upon Exmoor; a place that has so many tales to tell…

A solitary waymarker stands tall upon the ground
A tick upon the land.
No blood
No sign of any struggle
Not now.
A body long ago hunted down and burned
Ashes scattered to the winds
On a wild and desolate moor.
Not for the likes of her
The serenity of a consecrated graveyard.
Not for the likes of her
The dignity of remembrance.
Not for the likes of her
A beautiful epitaph carved in stone.
All she did was fall in love.
Surrender her heart and soul
To one who loved her back.
All she did was fall in love.
To love wildly with all her heart.
All she did was fall in love
With the passion of all her being.
All she did was fall in love
With an immortal.
All she did was
Allow him to love her back
And kiss him on that dark and stormy night
In that desolate graveyard
Way up there upon the moors.
All she did was allow the boundaries of her humanity
To stretch henceforth into eternity.
It was all she did
She fell in love…..

Some nights when wandering up there on the moors
One can almost catch the movement of shadows
Out of the corner of one’s eyes.
One can almost imagine in the darkness
The waymarker with the sturdy gorse bush still growing at its foot
On the otherwise patch of dry lifeless earth
Where nothing else will grow.
And if one was to imagine
Sinking down upon one’s hands and knees
Under the waymarker
Up there on the moors.
And imaging scraping away at the parched black earth where nothing lives.
One could almost imagine
Almost
Uncovering an old and crumbling piece of wood
Tossed away in haste
A trusting heart pierced.
One could almost imagine
Almost
Whilst up there on the moors….

 

April 30th

Limelight’s tricks and twists

A demon in jester’s robes

Life takes a dark bow…

 

marker.png 3

NapPoWriMo 2017

“The Keeper of Scrolls”

As always it feesl very exciting and quiet a personal acheivement to reach week number three. Apologies for the delay in posting due to a marvelous trip away; the results of which have inspired my poery tremendously and the detailed write up of which, will appear on my sister site ‘The Midknight Garden’.

April 15th    Falling to Earth: A Seasonal Tale [or a Tale for all Seasons]

When I fell to earth I landed with a very hard bump somewhere in the northern isles, onto very cold hard ground.

Yet it was not meant to be that way or so I had imagined.

I had always envisaged my arrival to be a much more glamorous entrance

With maybe a cloud or two parting and a revelry of trumpets blazing;

A great and glorious light in the sky would have been an added bonus of course.

However my Father was not won over by such pomp and circumstance

And was having none of it.

So my much anticipated entry into the mundane was something of an anti climax

And not an event that I care to chat about much.

Accepting the fact that an earthly entry of splendour was not to be

I set about discovering my first of many very humbling challenges.

Looking down through the lenses of my new but limiting physical eyes

I realised I now had a body;

In fact a body of condensed matter, hence the novelty of the bump and pain upon landing;

No Garment of Light in this realm then.

No my new garment was well and truly that of flesh and blood human;

This minor creation of my family’s doing, I of course had previous knowledge of

Whilst sojourning in the higher realms with Dad.

Yet at that point in time we did have very great and splendid hopes for this quaint species…

This new body then was very dense and movement was somewhat clumsy at first

But over time I kind of got used to it.

Everything was of the physical here,

No need for that now redundant third eye then

And my earthy feet actually could walk upon the lands.

This earthly lark is harder than I thought;

I actually need a team around me I mused to myself.

Support, company, a partner; all of that and more I longingly wished for,

And I set about casting my net far and wide upon the shores of time.

I knew that the teachings of Love and Light

Would come in time and many would rejoice in The Way,

But equally there would be those who’s hearts and minds were destined always to remain closed.

My team were good; I had chosen them well amongst mankind and they in turn helped in spreading The Wisdom of the Word to new lands afar.

In the world of men there were certainly others out there, also like me preaching the ultimate truths of the universe

But also there were those that desired me dead.

So life became a series of adventures spent teaching and leaving clues for those who would follow, to one day read and decipher.

There followed years of much ducking and diving as the spears of adversity constantly whistled passed my ears.

Times too, when the only life I knew was that of keeping well and truly in front of those swift bullets of destiny.

I knew my time upon the physical plain in this body was to be very limited,

Yet my life was full of honouring and spreading my Father’s word and teaching the truths and beauty of our race, with my companions by my side.

I was fully aware when my time upon the mundane sphere was to end

And had complete knowledge of they who would deliver the final treacherous blow,

It had always been known to me.

I knew also that when I left, it was not to be for ever, far from it in fact,

For I have returned time and time again so to complete the cycle, my purpose.

I will always be the Alpha and Omega; your beginning and your end.

And please don’t believe all you read about me, my press is truly horrendous and           as with the so called modern day tabloids, it is all fake news, false flags and false events.

Pay no heed to the many false prophets either, for those who shout the loudest have by far the lest to say.

But humans if nothing, are creatures of great imagination and guile

And will make anything up for a quick buck,

Always being ‘in it’ for themselves.

Out for anything they can get, including murder…

Often the wheels of destiny have to be turned for certain events to play out

And once set in motion those wheels simply cannot be unturned.

I fully knew my fate upon this physical plain;

I knew what lay in store, yet had great sadness for those who were destined to deliver it.

But a cross!!?

My ending on a cross!?

Now come on, really?

Whose bright idea was that to invent this little tale?

The true tale of the cross is something else entirely and for another day.

Other lands, other bodies and other lives I always constantly sought out.

I have always been with you.

I am with you still

Yet you know me not,

My fate and yours have always been mapped through time

Always intermingled

Always hand in hand

Centuries came and centuries went

Only the few faithful ones ever knew me and took me by the hand fully knowing me.

True friendships forged will always be welded strong in truth and bonded for ever.

As the Blacksmith welds the iron sword strong in the flame

So my armour is welded strong around me by the flame of truth.

The time for looking back is no more;

The days of the past are done.

The days of uri ma esentu are coming to an end.

Shadows are once more being cast upon the lands

And new tales and new beginnings are being woven among the stars.

E Utu Nana ma Adar will forever hold the truths.

There are those who will always know my tale

Will always tell it as it was.

There are those who cast shadows on all I do

And will never give up seeking me,

Yet with a lightness of spirit I rise and fall time and time again

As do the perpetual oceans of the new unseen worlds.

So this is my tale, my truth, within your world of illusion.

I could be anywhere still;

Forever coming to terms with this challenging corporeal body

Yet still walking firmly (just) with sartorial elegance and grace

Upon these magical shores,

Within your time

And all time

Til this time is no more

And the sound of the rising oceans

Herald that my tale is finally told….

 

April 16th

Dark desire awaits

Upon dreamings threshold dark

Eternity calls

 

Minds magic doorway

A portal to shadow realms

Whisked away each eve

 

What can be revealed?

When morning sweetly kisses

Soft and blushing cheeks

 

Lips of innocence

Scent of roses old and dead

A musky perfume

 

An illusion called

A reality fulfilled

Mortality ceased

 

Memory returns

On unfulfilled haunted wings

Shadows banished home

 

Twixt the worlds of man

And the other world of dreams

Lie high prices paid

 

Soft bloodstained kisses

Heightened feelings, all aglow

Death stalks silently…

 

April 17th

The alchemy of

Air and water, earth and fire

A sorcerer’s soup

 

April 18th

Dark soma, sleep purged

Morning’s frantic edges ironed

Espresso’s smooth kick

 

April 19th      Quick fire words off the top of my head, making sense eventually…

Love
Life
Lifetime
Future
One way
No ticket
Looking
Searching
Reaching
Through time
Tides
Ride
Run
Hide
No way
Don’t look
Look round
Past done
Over
Gone
Blink of an eye
No way
No lies
No running
Seek sanctuary
Stillness
Rest
Breathe
Live
Die
Life is over
In a blink of an eye…

 

April 20th

I danced at midnight
Hand in hand with pain
Sleep derived
Far from home again

I wandered far
And i wandered near
Searching for something
Already here

My lost was found
My dying done
Reality singed
In the waning sun

All of my travels
Had bought me here
Standing alone
On the edge of fear

As the oceans rise
And the oceans fall
As the secrets reveal
I will tell it all

The future is in
The hands of a few
And promises made
Dissolve as the dew

We all make choices
To live of die
Yet some of us fly
Beyond the sky

Illusions are made
Under the moon and sun
In a world of shadow
With no where to run

Within is where
The truth resides
The elders deicide
If you live or die

Gods sit among us
And roll the die
It wont matter to them
How loud we cry

Its all been a breeze
Its been so much fun
Dont fall off the edge
When the day is done

On the lip of midnight
I sit alone
Surrounded by darkness
But totally home

 

April 21st

The silence is all
It cannot rage
It just is.
Within the silence
The pulse is deafening
Connecting us
To the Wyrd.
Breathe deep
Become the Silence
Hear the breath
Hold the Still within.
All ages are one
Time dissolves
Into the One
Then into nothing.
The Breath
The Silence
Is all.
Questions
Answers
Dissipate
Into the void.
An eternal beat
Upon timeless shores.
Answers flow
Questions unspoken
The mind consumes
The ego slaughters
Numbering days.
Counting
Tick…tick.
The beating heart
Pulsates
Within the earth
Telling all
We live and die
In silence.
As the silent beat goes on.

 

Exmore 1

NaPoWriMo 2017

‘The Keeper of Scrolls’

Also from February’s Allographic Workshop

Seasonal Hauki with the chosen word of ‘Zodiac’

The dark winter skies

Clothe the Earth in icy cold

Zodiac sleeping

Then springtime flies in

Sweet scents and verdant new growth

Zodiac waking

Summer heat, too hot

Desert dry upon the skin

Zodiac listless

At last Autumn comes

All is calm within the skies

Zodiac rebirths

zodiac

Allographic Workshop

February 2017

“The Keeper of Scrolls”

From the Allographic workshop in Cambridge these words resonated in my mind from the word ‘Ego’:

Power… Fear… Uptight… Chains… Boundaries… Delusion… Lies… Humanity… Crushed… Fruitless… Commanding… Deadly… Visionless..

And from those words a poem birthed

Hidden within humanity

Are the boundaries of delusion.

Held strong by misplaced power

Fed by fruitless fear and lies.

In a visionless future world

Hides the deadly chains,

The lock and key lost in time.

Yet time itself already crushed

Within its own delusion of lies.

A fruitless circle of becoming

As the Serpent is fed

ouraborous

February 2017 Allographic Workshop: Cambridge

‘The Keeper of Scrolls’

SLUMBERING KNIGHTS

Slumbering Knights
From days of old
Mythical Beasts
Stories untold
Fact and fiction
Are bound as one
Truth is hidden
By the earthly sun
Dare to see
What’s before your eyes
Look to the heavens
And beyond the skies
Rhyme and reason is no more
Illusion is bound
On these earthly shores
Hear the story
Read the rhymes
Take a leap
Right out of time
The truth is where
It’s always been
Yet hidden deep
Within your dream
With the slumbering Knight
On the shores of time
With the mythical beast
No more seen…

January 2017

‘The Keeper of Scrolls’

Endlessly i fall

Caught in a chasm of wonder

Spiraling onwards

treasure

The bones of my being find shelter & solace ‘neath the comforting shadow of my soul

Digital Camera

Sounds of tinkling pipes

Woven by the winds own charm

Weave around my soul

Digital Camera

Silently i tread the years of earthly time; my one companion, my warrior soul…

Digital Camera

With breastplate and sword

I stand steadfast and mighty

In silence i rule

Digital Camera

Beauty always lingers and lives on in the hearts & minds of men, time cease to be & all there is is the truth….

wales-4

My name is silence

Only whispered by the wind

When the sky is dark

Digital Camera

Suspended timelessly in a space of my own creation; i weave reality with the electrons of my mind…..

airfield-5-2

All secrets revealed, all knowledge known.

At the end of days i shall become into being

And She will rise within

pic01075

And so it goes on

Bood spilled, innocents ravaged

Man’s death on the cards….

for-poem

The time is now here

For man to be accounted

Too late for good deeds…

primeval-waters-2014-1

Save your soul, lest you weep and pray for no more tears.

Tis over, all done…

graves-1

Beach huts hibernate
Dreaming of hot days and sand
Returning cycles

wales-2-for-fb

Beauty always lingers and lives on in the hearts & minds of men, time ceases to be & all there is is the truth….
The land will endure over centuries of upheavel, always renewing itself at perfect points giving humanity life once more…

wales-15-for-fb

Words from the ‘Keeper of Scrolls’

‘Truth is is darkness suspended ina time that does not exsist’

January 2017

(All photos and words are original and belong to the author)

That time around midnight

When the air hangs as cold and as still as death itself.

When the earth sleeps

And only the creatures of the night are out foraging for food.

That was the time

When I saw her.

I had popped out to empty the rubbish.

I had my eyes half screwed up and was hunched because of the cold.

I didn’t notice anyone there at first.

The shadows;

They always seem to come alive at that time of night.

Yet I caught a faint flicker,

A kind of glimmer in the darkness.

Assuming it was light escaping from my half open kitchen door,

I made my way around the side of the house to the bin.

As I came back to the garden I heard a faint sound,

A beating of wings,

Then silence.

Something, I don’t know, made me look up and walk towards the pond.

It was then,

Then I saw her.

She was sitting on the rockery beside the overgrown heather,

Unaware I was watching,

Staring, utterly enthralled at the snowdrops.

I think she had never seen anything so beautiful,

But then neither had I watching her.

I could hardly dare to breathe lest my breath should give my game away.

Her delicate silvery hand stretched out to tenderly pluck a bloom.

I was unsure whether to move forward or back or just stay there.

Then in that instant,

In that very instant she saw me.

A moment transfixed in time

Lasting an eternity;

Yet in reality a split of a second.

Her eyes pierced mine

And I felt her soul and mine beat as one.

Recognition.

And in that very moment I knew I would never ever see her again.

It was as if she realised then, that she shouldn’t have been here.

Shouldn’t have been seen.

She gave me one last haunting glance

And with a gentle beat of her translucent wings silently faded into another realm.

 

The air was colder

And stiller than ever before.

A dark void was all that was left.

I walked over to the pond,

There on the ground were the snowdrops,

Strewn as she had left them

In her haste to depart.

I bent over and gently picked them up,

Caressing them against my cheek as I walked back to the house.

 

A lone tear dropped on to the perfect white petals.

I shut the door as I went inside,

Suddenly shivering.

 

Then started looking for a tiny vase.

 

fairy

 

Written 17th February 2003

‘The Keeper of Scrolls’

Love and Light

But there is always another side to everything…..

 

I heard the wind whispering.

I felt the cool breeze in my hair.

I saw the Star and followed.

I heard the eternal voice of the one who loves me.

If I leave no trace upon this land

I know her sweet laughter will forever guide me home

To the place where I belong.

The winter’s chill and the long dark nights are no more.

The forgotten shadows fade

And the Light within reveals the true beauty of Life.

I shall fear not the unknowing

I shall fear not life

I embrace all;

My cherished journey.

The Light beckons me on this night

And I am led towards G.O.D. by her loving hand.

 

for-fb-30

 

  Written Yule 2010

“The Keeper of Scrolls”

Dec 2016

 

 

 

A Friday night eve

An abandoned airfield

Silence and stillness

Mysterious lights

Hovered

Followed

Lost souls

Coincidental figures

Speak of the way

Guides

Listen

Hedges and fences

Living quarters

Crumbling

Darkness

Hot and cold

A figure

Running

Spirits roam

Lost airmans souls

Seeking home

Truth

Corridoors

Dark doorways

Graffitied walls

Stairway shadows

Shiver

Memories of the past

Entwined in the present

Never forgotton

Psychic graffiti

Death

Whispering steps

Never alone

Senses alive

A kerbside encounter

Spirit tracks

Eternity lingers into darkness

Lost souls

Unbound

Through the veil

We will see

All that we are meant to see….

Through the veil

We will see

That of which is meant to be….

Through the veil

We will see

Into the deep, dark sea eternally….

 

airfield-5-2

Oct 2016

Cruelty Free

Living Cruelty Free, Loving All Animals

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

Bella Basura online

don't dream it, be it

Reclaiming Sovereignty

Annie Dieu-Le-Veut

THE MIDKNIGHT GARDEN: OUTSIDE OF TIME...THE KEEPERS OF SECRETS.

For when you open you eyes to see, you will see the riddles within the mystery.

never trust the fox

a poem a day for April: napowrimo Cambridge UK

The Pre-Raphaelite Society

the international society for the study of the lives and art of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.

mia beach

Designer Crochet & Knitwear Boutique | Unique, contemporary, handmade

Picturehouse Blog

Slightly obsessed with cinema. News, reviews and more from Picturehouse Cinemas and Picturehouse Entertainment

%d bloggers like this: