Poetry by Wendilyn Emrys

A Freak In L.A.
[Written in West Hollywood, California, March 27, 2002]

I'm one of those "freaks"
From L.A.
That you so deride.
I'm not happy here,
But here I abide.
I'd much rather be a freak in L.A.
Than mundane,
Far away.

I'm a freak in L.A.
And here,
I'll abide,
A mutant,
A Pagan with Pride,
A freak I suppose in your eyes?
And here in L.A.
Is where I abide.

I'd rather be a freak,
Than mundane.

Creative,
Impulsive,
And slightly insane,

I'd rather be different,
And explore with my brain.
Than boring,
blancmange,
And mundane.

© 2002 - Wendilyn Emrys
 

Silbury Hill On A Lughnasadh Eve
[Written on Silbury Hill, Wiltshire, England July 31, 1984]

The Mound,
Pulsating with chthonic force,
Lures me to its peak.
As the darkness slowly strokes,
The restive hills.
Soothing their turmoil,
With its touch.
The slim crescent of the Moon,
Pierces the Darkness.
Casting her ice hot glow,
Upon the Hill.
Which begins to hum,
With a long forgotten song.
A song I have heard before,
The joy of Birth,
The joy of Death.
It sings to the multitudes,
Who refuse to listen.
But still the Hill,
Sings to those few,
Who do remember and,
Who do understand.
Who weep,
With the joy,
That They are,
One With Nature,
One With The Goddess.
I climbed,
Seemingly for eons.
Grasping at the invisible crevasses,
Falling into secret abysses,
Only to clamber out again.
Then, there it was,
The summit,
Of the once chalk white Hill.
Now, green and verdant,
Overgrown with the fecundity of a thousand years.
Looming like the Lady's breast,
In the moonlight.
I climbed it swiftly,
Without further hindrance.
Reaching the apex,
Breathless with joy,
I knelt down in the center,
I knew that I had found my home.
Giddy laughter shook me,
But I was alone.
I screamed a silent scream,
A prayer to the Lady,
Above, around and beneath me.
Then I was alone no more.
The souls of those who had,
Preceded me,
Flowed up from the,
Center of the Hill.
Whirling and dancing in a glowing circle about me,
Their spectral fingers,
Caressing my face,
And clasping my Hands.
Leading me into the,
Eternal Dance of Life and Love.

© 1984 - Wendilyn Emrys
 

Arianrhod's Final Spell
[written for an AP English Class in High School, 1975]

That fateful day by Arianrhod,
A great evil was done.
Around the Great Eye of the Deep,
Her Sorcerer's did come.

She called them there to curse her son,
Their help she needed to,
Exile his soul from all the realms,
A yet greater evil, too.

A Mother to destroy her Son,
The First Law most offend.
The precious lives of her children,
A woman shall not rend.

Yet on her isle of Caer Arianrhod,
Did she most blasphemous,
Attempt to open the Great Well,
She spoke most venomous...

Aloud the words of Ceridwen,
By her folly undone.
The Eye did open and engulf,
Her castle, not her son.

© 1975 - Wendilyn Emrys
 

For questions or information, please contact Wendilyn Emrys at:
Wendilyn@wendilynemrys.com

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