A congregation of vapours, a visit
by Manannán in mist fog laden
shapeless he sweeps slowly engulfing all.
Horizon gone in creeping whiteness, contains
a purity of souls whose feet tread again.
Follow old paths to hills and hollows
onwards to forts and raths, these wraiths
commune; live a mere whisper away
they share a cool serenity in silence.
to dance in half light, wildly swirl about
Their energy a chill damp that clings
clammily to the Living!
© MRL 30th August 2013
Love this Mel, Manannan is my most favourite God. I can feel his presence in your words, shivers and magic. Wonderful.
ReplyDeleteMargaret xxx
I thank you for your appreciation Margaret :)
DeleteA lovely poem, I will think of this when we are wrapped in sea mists in Brixham.
ReplyDeleteMany thanks Suzie :)
DeleteFollow old paths to hills and hollows.....
ReplyDeleteI wish!
I have just read a few more of your poems - they are excellent. I am not a poet, although I have tried to be.
Thank you for your appreciation Valerie and it is always good to receive feed back.
ReplyDeleteLOL, when you posted this I was working on my current blog. Nice poem Heron, sorry for taking so long to respond. I love the feel of this bit of writing, can feel the fog.
ReplyDeleteThank you very much String. Am glad that ambience of Manannán has reached out to you.
ReplyDelete