Blue dress saga 15

I tore my dress the other day
down by Hawthorn  cottage
where
I met up with  The Witch
 Called  Flo
And her folk tale fairies
fair
some months  before
they had made my dress
of midnight blue  with
grasses spun
with wind tossed reeds
and clovers sweet
and Damiana
Dried in the sun
 
invisible mending
had to be the true repair
No one could see
threads of spider silk
and more 
attunement 
Bottled
long before
 tbe thorns had
dug into my thigh
And it  bled  a little
which  was why
i needed to get
the Old crone Flo
to  make a  patch
and for her to sew 
 
the need to infuse
to heat and strain
Magickal workings
Drops of fine rain
and the three  who are in the air
again
 it felt invigorating
so mote it be
I had given my gift
for her to see
the strength of the oak
the cherry  a resting
invisibility
It’s eyes we are testing
 
the fairies have  the most
gentile of fine hands
using  what can only be described
as the purest of strands
wispily crafting invisibly so
Till my dress was at one 
with the original glow
 we sat and had tea
and sulphs  were employed
we called them by flute
and they seemed  overjoyed
at the thought  of me coming
and meeting them all
from the imaginary realm
They were always on call
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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