Willow me from wont, let be
just you and me; let old be gone
send silver, gold and let us see,
in billows, fields aglow, the way,
from habit to adventures, from
what’s withered into spring.
Take my hand and bend your
will to want what willows send.
Brendan wants us to write a charm to drive whatever darkness away we feel at toads, somehow I feel that wont and habit is one of the curses I live in, like one of records set on repeat. As with every charm it needs to have some rhymes and rhythm. I will link up to Poetry Pantry tomorrow morning as well
September 10, 2016