Hearthkeeper August, 2011

Merry Meet and welcome to my hearth. Grab a chair and a cuppa tea and sit with me a spell. I would like to share this is a poem I wrote a few years ago when I was trying to define myself and my life after a series of tragic event. I have taken it out to look at and realized this could be YOU. So I share this with you. Know that I share my heart and my pain. But also know that I love the me I am today.. and could add at least 5 more paragraphs to this as I have grown by leaps and bounds since this was written.

I AM truly blessed and realize that with every breath I take.

I AM
By The Hearthkeeper

I am me
The me the world made
Not the me I wanted to be

I am me
The wife my Hubby made me to be
Not the me I wanted to be

I am me
The mom my kids made me to be
Not the me I wanted to be

I am me
the person the society made me to be
Not the me I wanted to be

I am me
The me my religious lessons made me to be
Not the me I wanted to be

I am me

The me the God/dess has guided to this path

Not the me I wanted to be

I am me

The me that Death has made me to be

Not the me I wanted to be

I am me
The scared girl Cancer is making me to be
Not the me I wanted to be

So now what…
If I am me..who is that
A wife, mom, witch, cancer survivor
Is this the me I wanted to be??

Am I me??
I do not know..
The me I wanted was a picture
A vision
Of the me I wanted to be

But all that has made me
Molded me
Formed me by their needs
Have made me the me I am

I AM ME
The me I am today
Love and cherished
Hugged and blessed
I am MOM,WIFE,WITCH,
SURVIVOR,EARTH MOTHER

I am me
The person who has evolved
From the me I wanted to be
To the me I want to be today

I am me

And I am truly blessed.

Until next time

Blessed Home and Hearth

The Hearthkeeper

PS. If there is anything you would like to see here.. please email me at  thehearthkeeper@gmail.com

Blessed be…

Tags: poem

• Poetry

Four Eagles August, 2011

A tiny spark ignites the flame
Burning bright split by pain
Now two wings of fire claim
Mystery dark without a name

So good she thought herself
Assumed sword guarding wealth
Thought lay empty on a shelf
Demon twin and victim melt

From hazel cut wooden wand
Conjure pearls from a pond
Place them gentle there upon
With it cast another dawn

Now angels sit on brimstone hot
Throne of dogwood martyr’s lot
Savior found in Celtic knots
Born again as pretense rots

Epiphany rise up from decay
Raven nighttime Phoenix day
Oak it spoke and blaze did say
Once we fought but now we play

Tags: poem

• Poetry

Linkk July, 2011

Sorceress with long blond hair,
Deep in thought so solitaire.
Greenish eyes hunt through each line,
Within each word there is a sign.

The table’s filled with ancient verse,
And each line she does rehearse.
She sees patterns in her mind,
Weaving them to her design.

She dons a gown of white and gold,
Silver rounds her waist, three-fold.
Lengths of velvet hug the floor,
She slowly walks to the door.

A quiet breeze gently blows,
Scents of magnolias fill her nose.
She moves across the soft sandstone,
She’s in control, and all alone.

An ancient altar lies nearby,
Goes by the name of “witches Eye”.
She grounds herself and says the words,
A burst of wind blows out northwards.

Round and round it starts it’s spin,
Now the magick will begin.
Resonating words call out,
Energy is all about.

The intensity now starts to build,
It’s purity has been distilled,
Perfecting, evolving, and maturing,
All within her willful stirring.

She feels it build, her hair’s on end,
Toward the north her arms extend.
All the power built up inside,
A quick release is now applied.

She turns around breaths in the air,
She smells magnolias everywhere.
A gentle breeze blows through the hair,
Of this sorceress, wise and fair.

Tags: poem

• Poetry

Linkk July, 2011

Confident soul with beauty rare,
Warming smile and skin so fair.
Youthful stare catch ones eye,
Hidden sadness,they imply.

Her heart’s alone, mind can outstretch,
So many lives she’s called to fetch.
She acts strong, but deep inside,
There’s a child that’s likes to hide.

Her heart is big and full of love,
She’s as gentle as a dove.
Those eyes see beauty, where she looks,
These feelings can’t be learned by books.

She is strong, does well alone,
Her true desire is never shown.
She’s relaxed with what she knows,
And from her all that knowledge flows.

She can see within your soul,
And through your life she can patrol.
Restless nights keep her awake,
Lucid dreams she does partake.

This is a person I call my friend,
Good and bad she tries to blend.
Broken hearts she tries to mend,
Welcome arms she does extend.

A warming glow she does project,
So many people this does affect.
All these feeling from her flow,
This is one person I’m glad I know.

Tags: poem

• Poetry

Kat Elizabeth July, 2011

Within Mother Earth thy feet do rest.
Thy arms do touch the sky.
Thy shell passed winter winds test
and within thy core life does lie.

Tags: poem

• Poetry

Debbie June, 2011

The new-age circus has come to town

and all wise women go to ground.

The sacred glade where once we stood,

has been cut down for firewood.

From deer park to nesting ground,

now concrete jungle all around.

The herbs we gathered and dried with care,

through sprays and poisons, found no-where.

The shells and stones from coast and brook,

all hid by rubbish – take a look!

The haunting song of the nightingale

a whisper ‘gainst the sirens wail.

The village green where children played,

is where the drunks and junkies sway.

And in the lanes we used to ride,

now souped-up engines, past us, fly.

So what has happened to our Land,

where guardians came to ‘lend a hand’.

They said, ‘to nurture and protect

the sacred ground from tor to wreck…’

The ancient rites they worked and prayed

but soon true Pirate wiles displayed.

They paved paradise with hob-nailed feet

and sold the space where the Fay did meet.

Our virgin land to slavery driven

Tho pearls of wisdom freely given.

A little knowledge, a dangerous tool,

our sacred Lady is no fool.

For she is true, a Queen most fair,

…and her hero stirs within his lair…

The plundered pearls, the Dragon wakes

- chains once held captive, vengeance breaks.

Through shady myths and legends old,

The Dragon, with the knights most bold,

emerges from his centuries sleep,

the Lady’s honour, bound to keep.

And when the battles fought and won,

the Dragon-Lady’s work is done.

Then herb and stone and Fay most fair,

wise women once again will share.

A little older, this is true,

but all the stronger for knowing you.

And when we see your moonlit dance,

and hear your foreign sounding chants,

we will remember through misty eyes,

how once you fooled us with your lies.

Hypnotic hopes we once believed,

were just the vehicles of thieves.

The land takes care of her own health,

if there’s healing needed, it’s with ourselves.

Money could buy the tools we need,

but Mother Earth provides these things!

The wise will get to know her best,

not by rites or how they’re dressed,

but a walk on a beach on a stormy day,

or helping the farmer gather hay.

Stay close beside her and you will find,

a treasure-house to blow your mind!

A crystal here, a touch-stone there,

a wealth of knowledge beyond compare.

So if your desire is to be true,

forget the circus, and just be you.

That person sitting with no other,

is probably spending time with Mother.

Tags: poem

• Poetry

Kat Elizabeth June, 2011

In the realm of smoke and mist,
a maiden searches for true loves kiss.

From lips of a fairy, soft as a breeze,
she falls in love beneath the trees.

His eyes emerald green, his hair like the night.
His gaze made her innocent soul take flight.

They lay together beside blue crystal streams
and talked about their hopes and dreams.

His to be mortal, hers to be his
neither happy with what is.

To cross the veil she’d have to lose her life,
the thought of this filled her with strife.

All her family would be gone.
If this didn’t work, she’d be all alone.

She would give it all up to be with her prince.
Nothing mattered and nothing made sense.

She made the choice with a moment to spare.
She couldn’t lose him, she wouldn’t dare.

Together forever, forever as one.
Their journey together has now begun.

Tags: poem, Poetry

• Poetry

Sama May, 2011

when walking in the park

i stooped to pick an acorn from the grass

and knew that, there, within my hand

i held the souls of every oak

which ever lived.

Tags: oak, poem

• Poetry

Sama May, 2011

I am the rising flame of autumn,
kissed by winter’s icy light,
I am the tender bud of springtime,
Summer’s dance of gold delight.

I am the space between the breath,
The mountain reach to the cloud
I am the lifted rush of wings
as birds begin their wondrous flight.

I am the tender touch of mother,
soft caress upon your face

I am the winter winds that blow
and the morning sun as it shows its face.

I am around you
Always with you

I am the sun on ripening grain
I am the rain which falls upon you
I am the warmth which comes again.

Tags: poem

• Poetry

Sama April, 2011

Tags: poem, Poetry

• Poetry