Ballad Of My Homelands
Dancer in the Flames Spring
Nine States of Love

Ballad Of My Homelands

Let me sing to you now
Of a place I hold dear
Of a world lost in time
Far away, yet so near.

Through a curtain of mists
Lies the place I call home
A world between worlds
Where I'm never alone

You will find me there
Swathed in shadows and light
In perpetual day
And perpetual night

The silence is such
As would deafen most men
But for me it's the peace
Of a magical glen.

My kinsfolk abound
In this haven of mine
All destined to dwell
In a time between times.

Such sights to be seen!
Such tales to be told!
But to mortals we belong
In the stories of old.

The earth was our playground
Once, long ago.
We'll return there again
When the foreigners go.

The mortals may do
Whatsoever they please.
Let them live their illusion;
They will pay their fees.

Pay us now, pay us later, but
You will pay what's due.
How much are we asking?
Well I'll give you a clue.

You destroy all we love
All that we hold dear
But your days are now numbered;
You'll end them in fear.

This land is not yours
Nor ever will be.
Do not try to claim it
With false prophesy.

We'll return once again -
The intruders all gone -
Then our work shall begin;
That of righting their wrongs.

Till then we're content
Just to sing, dance and play
And make love in this land
Both of night and of day.

©Caitlin, 1999

Dancer in the Flames

There is a dancer in the flames
Her robes of fire and smoke
Billowing about her as
The serpentine motion takes hold.

Resigned to her fate,
She is entranced
By the beauty and
Inevitability of it all.

He stands before her
Naked torso enflaming desire.
Incomplete form;
He is not yet ready.

They cannot touch,
But the dance has them both;
The dye has been cast.
She emerges anew.

The flames leap higher.
Light-footed, mesmerised,
She twists and weaves
A deosil dance of life and love.

©Caitlin, 1999

Spring

Naked and bare, she stands before the mirror
Her rich, dark body seeming barren and cold.
A smile dances across her lips as she glances to the chest
Her fingers caressing at its latch.

She raises the lid, just a little at first;
An invisible light bathes her worn, tired frame
Washing away the years till she emerges transformed.
Her shadow the last traces round the young, lithe form.

Reaching inside, she retrieves again her grail
A sigh, barely audible, shivering through her
As it radiates the key; that soft, sweet chord sounds
And the dance begins once more.

She would linger now, but her lover awaits
And the people fear when she meets him too late.
Caressing her form, she touches each jewel
Lovingly adorning her body for his gaze.

And oh! The soft, sweet scent, which lingers upon her
Intoxicating the senses till he can resist her no more.
By her he lives and dies, and by her he is reborn,
But a lover must be won; she knows this well.

So, decked in her jewels, sweet scented as the morn,
She arises again, wise in her seduction.
Though the outcome is assured, who can fail to be enthralled
By the momentary uncertainty as the dance begins anew?

©Caitlin, 1999

Nine States of Love

Strength of wind,
Cool refreshment of air.
Heat of flame,
Burning passion of fire.
Depth of ocean,
Nine waves of emotion.
Beauty of earth,
And a love set in stone.
And now we are one,
I am moon to your sun;
Eternity of spirit,
Finally home.

©Caitlin, 1999