The Oaten Bride Iv Poem by David McLansky

The Oaten Bride Iv



The moon will summon as a bell,
There's magic in the chanted spells;
Her groom awaits to claim His Bride,
To take His rights beside Her side;

A cloud of blackness shrouds the moon,
A sign the dancers take for doom;
For if the Bride's not sanctified
The Sun in Spring will be denied;

Saturday, April 5, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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