Prose
Poetry

Poets and Pagans #2

From a forthcoming hobbyist project for The Dark Mod; the sentiments are not my own.


The green one shares
And we give praise
For all we find a-growing.
His branch us bears,
Then down us lays
When back he comes a-snowing.
So best he fares
Who knows the ways
On old gods’ paths a-going:
Return what’s theirs
When end our days
Down endless streams a-flowing.
Here, up the stairs
The lordling plays
Without the rules a-knowing,
And unawares
Will foul things raise
And evil winds a-blowing.