I’ve heard the music of the piper From where the faeries roam, For it carries thro’ the woodlands That stand behind my home. So when the moon alights my caseme…

Though all around her have fallen, Yet she keeps the fight; No insurmountable odds deter her, Nor an army’s might; She does not bow to intimidation,

Vaporous forms adrift through cold… Are remnants of passing that in th… And I’ve felt the touch that this… While wandering about in haunted p… Disembodied voices resounding in e…

Betwixt earth and sun the darkness… As each day I’ve loved you so, But thro’ right or wrong my love g… For thus does true love flow. Betwixt the night and day lies my…

Come creeping did he, as death awo… Upon this Sabbath day at the midn… And beside her bed did the dark fo… To take my lover by the hand! So angelic was she, this I tearfu…

‘Tis with valour those souls have… That shine the staves that bards h… Thus their honours written sound t… That onward tolls a timeless knell… As casualties chime a continuous t…

Wicked winds and wandering mists, Moonlit hours and secret trysts, Spells and charms; unhallowed loam… Stealthy do the witches roam. Boiling cauldrons, smoke and fire,

When the sun descends before thee, Upon the day’s last waning light, There beyond is where I now dwell… Near the edge of night; Thus I linger onward in the twili…

He returned home from the war, but… For he returns to the war that he… He keeps in silence the torments t… As they are tethered to the deeds… He returned home from the war, but…

Nary dare I tend to touch upon The tangible ordinary, For I prefer the delightful pull Toward the imaginary. O’ be it to ponder or be it to roa…

I have only shallow words to expre… Of my love for you that deeply lie… For never have I found the parall… To the depths of where this love b… Nor have I discovered an earthly…

From ages of circles many question… As yet wisdom asks, “What have we… Have we ebbed the trying tides of… Or merely better wrought an old de… From clubs and spears, rocks and s…

He stood high upon the white cliff… Looking out to sea, And as he watched its ebb and flow There upon he wished to be; O, he then saw the seabirds soarin…

O’ torrents of darkness And voices from the pitch, Be this a tempest or madness, It matters not which! O’ tormented and sorrowed,

Ghostly lights suffuse the churchy… Old phantoms lurk nigh every stone And the night wind gusts the barre… Above this hallowed loam. There in prayer one silent sentine…