Sorceress of Golden Dragon
It was that magical hour
The powerful most time
Man called the ‘witching hour’
If they only knew
The power to be found
Opening their senses to this
The most incredible of times
Sweet eldritch chimes
With unhurried step she glided forth
Her back to the house
As she moved to the north
Towards the grove
Deep in the woods
The Sacred grove
The magical circle
Where time could be suspended
As well as all man’s rules of should
Replaced instead by power filled could
Within the circle
Ground laid bare
Sisters one and all
Gathered there once more
To join in joyous splendour
No man could perforce engender
To create a celebration new
Which called for self-surrender
Opening all to wider mysteries
Of power most sublime
Believed lost for all time
Yet living still in hearts and minds
Of every member of her kind
colourful bejewelled dragons
A grove surrounded
By Birch and Elder
Hawthorn and Rowan
Magical all
Whose power had shown true
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To those who had known
The power available to the few
Remaining of the dragon kind
Of such a one was she
Who knew the magic of the tree
To be called upon in knowledge
Power unforgotten by the few
Once more to be set free
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As the moment of high power drew near
No potions or spells
Neither a descent into hell
Just power gathering within herself
Of knowledge long learned
By those who yet yearned
To recapture the ways of old
No longer freely told
Into herself she turned her bright gaze
Her mind’s eye once more fiercely ablaze
With the glow of potent magic
Of power most true
Building a great vortex anew
Preparing herself to step through
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The corner once called
The elements true
Spirits and elementals they knew
The fierce glow from her grew
Her favourite hue
Enveloped them all in the circle she drew
Til it appeared to all
She was all but consumed
By the fires she wielded inside
For her essence distilled
By the power she willed
He form to transform once more
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Sharpening her focus
With each beat of her heart
Joy held inside but a part
The power of her mind
She bent to her will
Til in her place stood a glorious beast
A dragon of old
Sparkling once more like beaten gold
Larger than all life
A picture of might and awe
With a primal cry of command
Beat her wings on demand
Followed by her brethren below
Dragons of colour profound
Metallic hues did abound
As they launched away from the land
Some to return with the dawn
Return to the land
To the call of the Sacred Grove
To gather yet more of this new treasure trove
Of priceless magical beats
Of every metallic hue imagined
From times long ago
To fly in the night once more
Releasing their magic on this new shore.
Golden Sorceress, Golden Dragon
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Blessings, Susan ♥
© Susan Jamieson 2014
Top image from: cedar-and-willow.blogspot.com
Owls and Orchids 