Traditional Witchcraft for Woods and Forests; A review.

Traditional Witchcraft for the Woods & Forests by Melusine Draco is a wonderful read for anyone who feels the need to get away from the pressures of the city for a moment or few.

One of the very first books I read from Moon Books had to do with spirit animals and animal magic, and as a wolf I definitely need the comfort of the forest. This book isn’t just an instruction manual (like so many of these type of books are) it cuddles you up in forest and that for me is priceless.

I am lucky enough to have the follow up books to this first gem, and I am excited to start on my next adventure with lady Draco. I strongly recommend this book and probably will ( I’m pretty sure) the rest of her books. I also found her page Traditional Witchcraft so go have a look at that too.

 

In terms of style I enjoy that she is more of a story teller like I mentioned earlier. It also makes me happy that old lore is a recurring topic and that we get to learn and bathe in the wonders of things that we will possibly never be able to fully comprehend.

I think I have exhausted my thesaurus and just writing this review makes the hairs on my body stand up in excitement and admiration.

 

Definitely worth the time it took to get to this book.twwf

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Heritage Day

Today is my last day

 

I manage to crawl off the bed that ceased to be coupled almost a decade ago

then land in my still relatively tiny bathroom, though my own physique seems to be shrinking by the second now

I look up at my reflection and I realise the purpose of mirrors

There is a headline,

my face

wrinkled and grey beneath its letters seems to unfold like an over ripe flower without ever having been touched

it says;

Heritage Day

I shuffle along until I trip over the now almost dry white board marker and I begin the list:

One: I inherited the dark lines of deceit off my mother’s core

Two: I learned how to live with being a liar

Three: I came as a foreign being full of love

Four: I was denied love but I’m still leaving filled with only those four letters

Five: Life was beautiful though the darkness is always the beginning of a new story

Six: I inherited the art

Seven: I will never forget

 

I rinse myself off and decide that it would be better to leave full of hope

After all

3 months before they expected me I was ready

13 years before I was

they weren’t

my family

 

The wardrobe whispered the call of majesty

I obeyed my longing eyes

past the dioors and my goodbye suit

I found the two letter phrase barely in disguise and I remembered why

Heritage day:

One: I learned how to judge myself better than anyone had ever judged me

Two: It wasn’t always sunny

Three: How to fake the smile through heartache

Four: How to cause the same

Five: My clothes are cheap

Six: I am unworthychocolat_l

Seven: I knew this each time we made eye contact… after all; we are self proclaimed judges

 

So neat, tidy and fresh I walk towards the lonely seat and the non functional tv

and on the top right hand corner of the screen

A phrase in white paint screams out at me

Heritage Day:

One: My skin colour murdered my first love

Two: I inherited the skill of not caring much for those attributes

Three: My father Died of a broken heart

Four: You saved mine

Five: Our life was puzzled together by vibes and muted sentences

Six: In the end, my quirks were irrelevant and your were my indica

Seven: I fell eternally asleep with the very thoughts that days and nights before had always haunted me.

 

Palm on palm now

My eye lids find their space

No tears left in me

My heritage day is eternal

and I only grew to know that the moment I looked into you!

 

 

 

 

Sacred Sex & Magick; A Review

The Web PATH Center have created, a short, sweet and tangible guide to why Sex Magick is important and helpful to and for the Pagan community all over the world.

This Moon Books release instantly captivated me, its non biased outlook and thorough layout gives this one a fresh feel and has definitely set a new standard for anyone who dares approach this topic without being more than sufficiently equipped.

In a nut shell: Enjoyable, informative and spicy!515q13csOzL._SY344_BO1,204,203,200_

Between Darkness and Intensity

Dear teacher

Tonight in bold mannerisms

I do portray

The lessons taught and learned in the absence of a living day

Of loves lost and conquered

Left and mastered

All following a cretin on a shallow bay

 

I come here to proclaim

How classrooms could not save

The torn arms of a dying slave

To verse

To love

To inadequate gestures of innocence

 

So.. Is this my winter

That I manage to salvage with a truthful smile?

For…

The curves that shape my face

Are clowns

On canvases

Erasing spring

And capturing decay

 

In seasons my gift returns

It escapes

The gaps between

Growing

Sowing

The truthful fear

Of perfection on a paper

Slaving only to a self

Denying

 

Flying away from every hopeful mirth

In lakes of imbedded imperfection

I swipe my face

Along the carved red between my veins

 

Dear teacher

I do not understand

The impossible failure the reaching out

The empty hand

Death no longer visits

And it hurts my limbs

Her lips no longer pronounce the “peachy”

How is it Can you tell? – I came to this…

 

It seems no faith can save me

No god

No parent

Power nor truth

Can keep the yearning away from needing to be close to you

The films we never got to see

The pictures Screen shots

Simplicity of romancity

It signals

Like sirens on a shore

Of titles we cannot bare no more

 

Storms we had overcome

But at long last the victorious lands

We did forsake

For

The

Sake of

The teachers we once thought we could be

In springs between the

Serenity of darkness and intensity

Pre-Noir

I need to create an instance, a circumstance where light is eradicated. What would humanity be if we were to live in darkness?

What would humanity see?

How would you react if you were to suddenly be shown that the core of humanity is actually demonic?

Is it so difficult to understand that darkness is at the core of our natural state of being?

When you close your eyes… you re-generate into a state of darkness. We wake to light – to

live the surface life of flesh and ‘sin’… our fake i.e: carnal-lives are composed of what we term as “light”.

Darkness does not provide for the flesh or the body… even so – some of our most physically gratifying moments stand out in our memories as moments of pleasure under a dark blanket in the arms of someone we love.

Black_4

The blind may not see but they dream as we dream and imagine as we imagine!

Switch your light off and see what happens!

Become still and unfettered.

We need  to be freed from the blinding light in order to win beneath the veil, to fight the battles that many are still unwilling to acknowledge!

What is the use of making love if our souls fail to sing out louder than our physical bodies do?

Where am I going with this?

We all want to be heard or seen, but in reality, all we actually strive for is to connect, to be FELT and RECEIVED instead of rejected. In darkness rejection would be impossible… there you would simply have the magic between souls and the texture of it.

At some point in my life, a sip of Gin could help place a smile back onto my face.

What a paradox…

Loving something as clear and see-through as Gin yet romanticizing the darkness.

The hero of my own literature shall then be named ;

Noir…

Gin Noir!

A Story of A Blue Sun

Just a poem written for someone 🙂 very late one evening!

Blue-Sun-web

Yellow
They said was what made the world red
And red being the color of love… meant that everything yellow
was good for a smile and a dance
But his color was blue
So he thought it true
When the world would tell him he couldn’t

One evening he slowly
headed for home after a long day of shining blue light on the world
he though to himself a miserable thought
that all was lost at bright yellow’s high cost
and about love he completely forgot
With his sad face on his chest
and a torn heart at his breast
he continued to walk on home

Until one day while shinning sadly on us
a stranger figure appeared before him
and she seemed to like his blue light
she told him that one day blue would take yellow away

His heart trembled gently
with wild butterflies in his sight
when she looked at his blue with her eyes
and such a surprise for the color of those eyes were so
shining
and loving
and blue

so since that day
when any man says that yellow is the color of a true sun
he smiles broad and brightly
and holds his love tightly
and he says’
“So?
blue is the color of love”

For K.

Nil Sa Saol

24/01/12 20:24

 Dear diary

‘I saw the gap again today, while you were begging me to stay….take care not to make me enter because if I do, we both may disappear’

There is no love in fear

My biggest fear is fear itself. Anger is not only an emotion but an anchor; an ointment to still the throbbing of our wounds. This tourniquet absorbs fear like a supplement and thus it grows and rules leaving no space for reason or compassion, yet it is passionate and loving.

We’ve fought many battles… It is a struggle as the self breathes down my neck hoping that I may slip up and give her gap to surface again. I can never merge with that self if I am to fulfill my curious purpose.

15/07/1994

Dear Diary

‘I will choke until I swallow… choke this infant here before me. What is this but my reflection? Who am I to judge or strike you down?’

There is no love in fear

There is no escaping the monsters although I’m not entirely sure that they are real. Toys are extras in this thriller of incapability. Strawberry is my doll; I hold her face right next to my own then turn to look into my mother’s mirror. Strawberry’s face is vibrant and bright next to my own dull reflection. Through the mirror I see how small I am compared to the vast space filled with scattered furniture… it’s been so long and she still hasn’t called, my own mother doesn’t want me. I smothered her with all my love so she left, to teach me a lesson, so that I may know anger and resentment.

It distorts; the face that used to smile is dark, my eyebrows clamp together and a tear rolls down my cheek. This chest starts throbbing and my throat is tight and lumpy, mimicking my fantasy as I seek the strength to choke this reflection to death. I know anger so where is she?

In my mind I smell her perfume; she reaches out, touches my face and the anger subsides.

She may be gone but I am hers and therefore I must take care of this girl and overcome the longing to hate, judge and hurt her petite infant.

But you’re pushing and shoving me.

You still love me, and you push it on me.’

“Gin!”

No! It can’t be.

This was it?

“Gin, honey? Mommy’s home!”

I am stumped and my throat tightens some more. In a split second the self takes over with an emotionless expression.

“Aww sweetie! Come here, mommy’s home now and she isn’t going anywhere.”

Most little minds would be thrilled, happy, crying. I want her to get away, to stop touching and smothering me, I have so many questions…

“Say something baby, come on… mommy’s missed you she loves you so much. Hug me now will you?”

She clutches onto my clothes and pulls me, she pushes me.

(At that instant I knew; I knew what fake smiles looked like… I knew how to lie!)

“It’s ok mommy!”

The anger burns through my veins as I slowly get closer to her with a hug.

“That’s ok mommy, I love you too!”

11/04/2009

Dear Diary

‘Rest your trigger on my finger

Bang my head upon the fault line.

Take care not to make me enter,

‘Cause if I do, we both may disappear.’

There is no love in fear

Memories are the music videos of our past, only the instrument that triggers them is not a remote, no one hears your mind slipping way back as the faint smell of humidity fused with medicine kills your perception of time. It thrusts you right back into the arms of that dark, daunting space of yourself as your half grown hands shove at your Dad’s lifeless body for the last time; the smell takes me right back to when I stood there not even wanting to hold her back… I needed her darkness and anger; I needed not to feel pain. It was an easy goodbye, no tears… only that invisible rope around my throat. I don’t remember the last time I told him that I love him, but he knows now…I really hope he does.

‘Slipping back into the gap again, I’m alive when you’re touching me…

Alive when you’re shoving me down.’

My pillar faded with the sunset today, he lay as obedient as I had ever seen him in the ambulance as they drove off. The night brought with it the comfort of the arms I had longed for. I look for anger, I turn my heart inside out to try and bring it out, but her hands soothe and nurture, and for this moment she loves me again. I can’t breathe as she suffocates me with the arms of peace and the breath of mist, she responds to my body and I am willing to gasp just like this for as long as I live.

‘But I’d trade it all for just a little bit of peace of mind’

Hers are the eyes I look into as I force my own to open up. Our love remains nothing but a stolen moment as she sits up and calls me ‘friend’. There will be no peace now in my mind or in my heart so the two of me rise and walk away.

26/02/2011

Dear Diary

‘Put me somewhere I don’t want to be;

Seeing someplace I don’t want to see;

Never want to see that place again…’

There is no love in fear

There are shadows along the wall and they seem almost synchronized. I recognize them and I move along knowing that one of them is mine. I close my eyes and I go back into the forest where the ‘Jedi’ mind pulls me out from the tombs of ‘Krom’*. My body feels pleasure while my spirit cries and I am afraid to stay in the forest, afraid to taint the purity I found. Self registers spirit and recognizes the undeniable bond between fog, magic, love and fear. Reality is hot, wet and dirty, oh but now I know… concrete, ancient truth.

‘If when; I say I may fade like a sigh if I stay, you minimize it anyway then; I must persuade you another way.’

A woman’s silence says much according to her circumstance. Shakespeare is resurrected through the movement of my lips while the self attempts to choke and kill contentment. I see the gap I have left and I know the war is inevitable just as I realize that this battle will be the last regardless of the outcome.

24/01/12 23:59

 Dear Diary

 

‘Staring down the hole again

Hands upon my back again

Survival is my only friend

Terrified of what may come’

There is no love in fear

Education is the artillery with a lifetime guarantee and language is the indestructible force barging bravely through borders, barriers and between cultures, enabling a leniency towards others and their spirituality or the lack thereof. The old self turns her back to me, and the new self synchronizes with the movements of the old. Fear is now a polka dot skirt around the two, walking hand in hand with certainty.

A rainbow is most prominent in the act of letting go, of coming to terms with one’s own heart which loves, hates and sins even in purity…until the colours mix to create our own shade of grey.

‘Just remember I will always love you; even as I tear your throat away, but it will end no other way’

 

Darkness is the product of light when light willingly goes back to sleep in order to heighten the appreciation for both in amongst all living things.

You must go where I cannot,
Pangur Ban, Pangur Ban,
Nil sa saol seo ach ceo,
Is ni bheimid beo,
ach seal beag gearr.
Pangur Ban Pangur Ban,
Nil sa saol seo ach ceo,
Is ni bheimid beo,
ach seal beag gearr.
  – **

Life is mist. Life cannot be without a beating heart, yet mist cannot be without fear, just as a heart cannot beat without love.

 

*Krom – ref: Irish Myhology
 
** Aisling’s Song – http://thesecretofkells.wikia.com/wiki/Aisling’s_Song
 
Ref: Tool – Pushit (Salival 2000) lyrics

Inspiring Hopeless

By Nimue Brown

Hopeless Maine, for anyone who hasn’t encountered it, is the island setting of a graphic novel series. www.hopelessmaine.com It’s dark, full of strange magic and peculiar creatures. Iva asked me to blog about what inspired it.

Tom always likes to claim joint ownership, but really speaking, this is his island. I just came along and filled in a few details, worked out a few explanations, that sort of thing. Mostly it doesn’t feel like making something up, it feels like a real place that sends me postcards now and then. In the beginning, Hopeless was a peninsula, not an island. I’m not sure when it changed. The gothic gloom, the fog, the creatures, are like a dark mirror reflection of how Maine is. There are a fair few horror writers from Maine – Stephen King most notably, and Tom’s explanation is that it is a creepy sort of place, and this is just a natural reaction to it. Having flown over Casco Bay and seen the islands, and a lighthouse that looks a lot like ours, I have a keen sense of a magical, mysterious landscape, a bit alien to me, very remote.

There is another strand in the creation of Hopeless though, and that’s my landscape. Back when Tom was on one side of the Atlantic and me the other, I’d sometimes help by looking out visual references for him. He’d ask what a space might look like, and I’d make suggestions. About the worst thing you can hear as a creative person is ‘oh, do what you like!’ Some kind of focus or direction is always helpful. I used to send Tom images from the town I grew up in – Dursley. The same Dursley that inspired a certain muggle family for a certain wizarding boy, as it happens. Hopeless Maine, as a consequence, is a strange amalgam of actual Maine, the English Cotswolds and the things we found in our heads.

Much of it comes out of playing with each other. One of us does a thing, and the other picks that up and does something to it, and passes it back. By this means creatures, landscapes and stories evolve. Tom drew some ruins, I had to figure out who built them, new stories resulted. It’s a very chaotic, organic sort of process.

These days, I will confess, we do a lot of our most creative thinking work in bed. Our life is quite tough physically, some days we fall into the duvet so wiped that we can’t move. When I get that tired – and this is probably true of other people too – things happen to my brain. Tom calls it ‘being punchy’ but correlations form where no logical connections should be made, and all kinds of ideas flow. Lying in the darkness, we ask what if? And why? And could you put goggles on it? Most of what we talk up in those strange, semi-comatose conversations never sees the light of day, but every now and then an idea turns out to be strong enough to survive the light of the following day, and some have enough legs to clamber out of our heads and get themselves established in the world.

I have a fantasy about getting together a few of my favourite creative people for something a bit like a sleepover. Professor Elemental, Edrie Edrie, and Dr Geof are high on my current wish list, and then, pyjamas, and pillows and barely awake conversations. I think the consequences would be wild!

In terms of themes and ideas underpinning Hopeless (to get back on topic), those are very much shared. We wanted to explore what effect apathy and little acts of carelessness and unkindness have. Most evils are not very big, after all, and the larger ones are often made out of the little ones, slowly escalating towards a banal, complacent kind of horror. The normalising of cruelty and indifference, the rationalising of hate are all things that I want to explore and challenge. We knew from the start that we wanted a heroic tale that was not like superhero tales at all, and that hangs on the characters. Salamandra does have magical powers, but she doesn’t really have any drive, or ambition, she’s just muddling along. As the story unfolds, it’s the non-magical Owen with his overwhelming desire to make things better, who really drives the action. That’s important to me. All the magic in the world, is of no use at all if you aren’t using it. All the talent, skill and genius imaginable are of no use if you have no sense of direction, no ambition.

We also wanted to tell a good story, that would entertain people, and hopefully inspire others a bit. That’s one of the functions of it all being a bit grim. The darker the night, the brighter the stars shine, and the descent into darkness is often a quest to find light. It’s very hard to make sense of anything without seeing the contrasts, and so Hopeless, is very much a story about hope, in a roundabout sort of way.

CRT Threatens Website

The following was posted on ‘ Kennet and Avon Boating Community Website ‘ on Tuesday September 18 2012 @ 3:46 .

Kindly note that the article is not my own, however I felt the need to share it.

Thank you!

CRT threaten our web site with libel

This web site’s Editor received a letter from CRT recently threatening to take court proceedings for libel against the web site because of statements made in articles revealing and commenting about BW/CRT’s relationship with hire boat holiday brokers Drifters Leisure Limited. CRT has also asked the editor to remove the articles, to make an undisclosed donation to the CRT as recompense, and to publish by way of apology information which is already in the public domain athttp://www.whatdotheyknow.com/request/shares_in_drifters_leisure_limit#incoming-305070 in its own response to a Freedom of Information request.

The Editor refutes the allegation made by CRT for the reason that the articles in question are based on evidence. Analysis and comment about the issues covered in the articles is in the public interest and in particular in the interests of boat dwellers without home moorings.

When big organisations try to silence their critics using threats to sue for libel they do not always get the outcome they want. We would remind CRT that it cost McDonalds around £10,000,000 to pursue a civil libel action against London Greenpeace activists Helen Steel and Dave Morris that was only partially successful. Eventually Steel and Morris were awarded £24,000 compensation in the European Court of Human Rights because they did not get a fair trial on the ground of inequality of arms. That is, they were low waged people with no resources to defend themselves against the action; legal aid is not available for defending a libel action, whereas McDonalds could afford to spend thousands of pounds each day to hire top lawyers.

The threat of court action was received shortly after CRT Chief Executive Robin Evans refused to withdraw derogatory statements about boaters without home moorings following a complaint made to CRT. There appears to be a double standard at work here.

Despite a request by the Editor for clarification of the exact words that are alleged to be defamatory, CRT has not responded. Here is the correspondence between CRT and the Editor:

21 August 2012

DEFAMATORY ARTICLES POSTED ON

http://kanda.boatingcommunity.org.uk

We write regarding the following articles posted on the aforementioned website:
“CRT Head of Boating runs hire boat company” posted on 12 July 2012; “BW had shares in hire
boat company” posted on 19 July 2012 and “Discredited CRT Legal Director and Head of Boating
booted and shrunk” posted on 5 August 2012.

Canal & River Trust considers the unsubstantiated references to impropriety, allegations of
misconduct, bullying, harassment and discreditation in conjunction with the Canal & River Trust’s
directors and senior employees and their positions or office and the malicious unauthorised
mockery of the Trust’s logo published in the aforementioned articles to be calculated to disparage
Canal & River Trust and its directors and are therefore defamatory to Canal & River Trust within
the meaning of Section 2 of the Defamation Act 1952.

It is clear that you are either author, editor or publisher of the defamatory statements referred to through http://www.boatingcommunity.org.uk reverting to http://kanda.boatingcommunity.org.uk as
envisaged by Section 1 of the Defamation Act 1996 and therefore it was your responsibility to take
reasonable care that articles published by you do not contain defamatory statements and images.
Should you allow the publication of the statements to continue, Canal & River Trust will be left with no option but to consider civil proceedings against you.

Accordingly, we request that you cease publicly displaying the aforementioned articles on your
website or elsewhere without delay. We further request that you publish the attached text by way of
an apology and make an undisclosed charitable donation to the Trust as a way of making amends
in line with Section 2 of the Defamation Act 1996.

28 August 2012

I acknowledge receipt of your letter dated 21 August 2012 that you sent to
info@boatingcommunity.org.uk. I require you to provide detailed clarification of which specific words or statements in the articles you have referred to that you consider to be “references to impropriety, allegations of misconduct, bullying, harassment and discreditation in conjunction with the Canal & River Trust’s directors and senior employees and their positions or office”. Please specify in detail your arguments for asserting that these words or statements could be construed to be calculated to disparage CRT and its directors.

I would be grateful for your response within seven (7) days.

4 September 2012

Further to your email, I would be grateful if you first clarify whether you are an editor or operator of the website http://www.boatingcommunity.org.uk. If so, please let me have your correspondence address together with an address of your solicitor (if any) and confirm whether your solicitor is entitled to accept service of legal documents.

If not, please let me have names of the website editor and the website provider together with their contact details. In the meanwhile, I note that the articles referred to in my email of 21 August 2012 continue to be published on the http://www.boatingcommunity.org.uk website. The website operator and/or editor was put on notice that Canal & River Trust considers the contents of those articles defamatory Accordingly, should this matter progress further, I reserve the right to bring this fact to the court’s attention.

4 September 2012

This is an open letter. I acknowledge receipt of your email of 4 September 2012. I have noted your comments. I am the Editor of http://kanda.boatingcommunity.org.uk (the “Web Site”) and the author of the articles and images that you refer to. The Web Site is not run on a commercial or for profit basis. For all other purposes I am the publisher of the Web Site in that I make the decisions regarding what is published and I perform the electronic publication.

I am not represented by a law firm. I am assisted by the National Bargee Travellers Association (the “NBTA”) and by XXXXXX as McKenzie Friends in this matter. I would be obliged if you would copy any further communication to legal@bargee-traveller.org.uk.
XXXXXX of the NBTA will respond to your enquiry to him in relation to the technical details of the web site.

I observe that you have failed to respond to my request for a clear specification of the specific words or statements that your client alleges are defamatory. Because of your continued interrogation of me, should you not proceed in issuing a claim in this matter, I shall make a complaint pursuant to s.2 Protection from Harassment Act 1997.

It is also material to this matter that, insofar as your client is required to disprove statements when making a claim alleging defamation, the NBTA has now provided evidence, verifying the maladministration on the part of your client, to the Waterways Ombudsman. The NBTA shall refer to additional evidence as appropriate.

I reserve my rights in all respects.

4 September 2012

Without Prejudice Save As To Costs

I write further to my first email of 4 September 2012. I note that the statutory functions of CRT (including the management of the waterways) remain a  public function. Therefore in relation to this public function, CRT remains bound by ECHR. I note that CRT has sought to curtail my fundamental freedom to impart information and ideas regarding the management of the waterways. It follows that your client has violated my Convention rights under Article 10 ECHR. I would be grateful if you would convey my request to your client that it ceases and desists in violating my Convention rights under Article 10 ECHR immediately.

I reserve my rights in all respects.

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Lord Byron’s Virtue

She walks in beauty – – like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to the tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
She walks in beauty – like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies
One ray the more, one shade the less
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress
Or softly lightens o’er her face – –
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
She walks in beauty – – like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies
And on that cheek and o’er that brow
So soft, so calm yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow
But tell of days in goodness spent
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.
She walks in beauty – – like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies.
Very different from Don Juan isn’t it?
I thought I would share this because it is not very often that poetry moves me this much. Since I cannot read it aloud for the entire world to hear the best I can do is share it here and hope that many will stumble upon this post.
We often find that musical pieces and songs do tend to get old (not including the classical pieces that is).  We see it everywhere, there’s a ‘Top30’ countdown every week and each week songs fall out and new ones take the place of the old ones.
Fortunately it does not work that way with poetry…
Lord Byron won’t be kicked off the chart by Walt Whitman only to be replaced by Wordsworth followed be Yeats. How about having a literary duel; Shakespeare vs Pratchett… hmm? Can you imagine how chaotic things would be if it worked that way with literature?  I do not mean to say that they all sell the same or that everyone likes them, only that they will remain in the chart in the long run.
She Walks in Beauty is a brilliant piece… what makes it brilliant is how relative it is to our times although it was written almost 200 years ago. Here the expression of beauty is done through the opposition of dark and light. He almost blends the two, creating the necessary balance for genuine beauty. It is also lovely how he uses ‘the night’ as a source of beauty.
As someone who values everything that is genuine and real, tangible, innocent and honest – I must admit that I adore this poem and that Byron has most certainly taken up one of the top spots in the chart of my heart.
I wish the world would let go of the new and start dusting off the shelves of antique beauty. There is so much more to be found there than in any other form of entertainment that we have now. Where are we headed to?
If the author of a piece like ‘Don Juan’ can spend himself entirely on a piece such as this one, then surely we ought to have a little more longing and appreciation for innocence and simplicity.
‘All that’s best of dark and bright’
‘One ray the more, one shade the less’
‘So soft, so calm yet eloquent’
‘A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.’
I am yet to read a more exact description of beauty, and if such does exist we need to look around and ask ourselves, “How long before beauty becomes a myth in our world?”
‘She walks in beauty – – like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies’
 Just a thought really!