mystical poems

She.
Her brown long hair
And her dress, purple.
Fairy wear. Shes a girl
With glitter on her cheeks.
And she walks the beach under the moon and sings in Greek to the old Gods to whom she belongs. Shes a pirate and a gypsy. And a beauty. She is a goddess. Her beauty is like faery lore or a magickal witches chant. She looks at the stars who she loves and knows. Her gaze is like a gaze from an elf.
She is a witch. She would have been Byron’s muse and Shakespeare would have written sonnets about her. She is a beauty. About her are verses written like elven poetry locked inside a grandmothers box.
She’s la hija de la luna.