Volume 8, Number 43, 2005
By Fay Herridge
She is a goddess, loved and feared
By those who know her well;
Like a moth to a flame, she draws you near;
Then she weaves her magic spell.
She wears a flowing gown today
In angry shades of deep blue,
And she touches the shadows in my mind
With a chill that pierces through.
Her arms reach up towards the sky
And frothy white sleeves hang low;
She can be a friend when the time is right
Or a strong and deadly foe.
She’s a goddess and a mystery;
One that’s ageless - yet very old;
She is deep and dark, she is free and wild,
Full of secrets still untold.