What comments on 'Celtic Mother, Winter's Crone' poem?
In the time of dead leaves,
when wide-eyed things
frowned at sound,
and snow fell through fog,
a red berry circlet
crowned her hair.
When hunger stilled infants
and frost shrouded ancients,
wrinkled laughter dappled
forests, glades, fens.
Her talons clawed
life through death,
veil through veil.
Mother. Hag. Virgin whore.
Giver, taker, wise before
In the time of black robes,
when men killed
for one mouth of meat,
she walked naked
on frozen fields,
and the earth
Mother. Midwife. Woman.
She was breathtaking.
elysabeth faslund's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (............................Celtic Mother by elysabeth faslund )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Dead Theatre, rashmi sri
- The nest of love, Jesus James Llorico
- Pappou Elia To My Father In Australia 1.., Elia Michael
- The God of Fallen Leaves, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
- Lonely Gallinule, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
- Appeasement, Stephanie Sharma
- Golden Boyhood, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
- Mysterious Beauty, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
- Complex Mind, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
- Twin stars, Zillur Rahman Shuvro