
Leaves shudder, And Blush at your Passing lord, Remembering the days of summer, When you , green and pollen bright. Dancing in the warm, caressing winds Proud and vital as the Up thrusting Oak. But now the sword – edge of frost, Looms from the mist. Balancing night and day, A blade poised at your throat, You shudder. And the leafs shudder with you, You grip your hand to the branch, Savouring that one last touch, Then you leap spiralling through the crisp air, As you dive upon the frost blade. Dying the leafs, Red with your willing sacrifice, You rise, your lips, Pale as the blade buried within you, And make your way to the darkest shore At your feet, the leafs rustle and sigh, And shudder And blush at your passing Related articles by Zemanta Practice Of Invocation (dragonintuitive.com) Group Invocation (dragonintuitive.com)







