This poem is inspired by the 5 beautiful women I travelled to the U.K with. It is written at Tintagel Castle, Cornwell where lies fascinating legends of King Arthur and the Round Table. I dedicate this poem to all the powerful goddesses that you are.
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Under the firy sun,
Under the strong rock,
There is a scent of women,
That melts the gun,
That eases the hard.
Have you any ideas how powerful this wind is?
For it bends the tree to a humble knee.
For it shapes the mountain without being seen.
The power may not be leaned on
But thy power shall be lived.
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Under the firy sun,
Under the strong rock,
There is a scent of women,
That melts the gun,
That eases the hard.
Have you any ideas how powerful this wind is?
For it bends the tree to a humble knee.
For it shapes the mountain without being seen.
The power may not be leaned on
But thy power shall be lived.
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