Mistletoe

its a power of good

i give thee

i am Mistletoe

the thrush took me

to where you be

right into the flow

sharing sap most fortunate

for I am evergreen

an oak would have been wonderful

but the blackthorn is my scene

a gokden bough of the spirited

that is who I be

masculine and sun hot

the Witches Broom for me

they come for me Midsummers Day

a golden sickle to

slice a chunk of the Holy Wood

cast down and caught its true

the Druids strong and powerful

seek immortality

respectful of ancestral thought

the soil itself  it be

A perfect growing medium

good fortune of the wise

I was placed upon the highest  branch

and from that point I rise

Apollo frigga  and Odin

gods who saw in  me

protection and the most goodly health

and ofcourse  fertility

protection against lightening

a Hemi Parasite

i never came to kill you

or to  damage  or to  blight

your integral weakness

possibly will be

your downfall

but in  truth Dear Friend

I love your honesty

The stickiness of my white berries

catch the thrushes  beak

in cleaning it their vibrancy

and perhaps a branch thats weak

sees a gentle  scraping action

and my pores  become

a position of docility

and, therein  we all need some

a gift of love hereafter

a captivating part

a bewitching challenge

a great  meeting of the  heart

a predetermination

perhaps even ordained

in Druidic circles

fortitude

unflaggingly ingrained

dioecious that is a female

and male  within a  flower

a miracle of godliness

creating honest power

it beckons inclination

a preference Lets say

to venture to the thorns and fruits

unbidden in a way

to impose ones will

An over dramatic

chance is also there

discretion sees a quality

Though still its rather rare

human eyes don’t always see

if leaves are on  a tree

but in  Winter with our evergreens

more obvious we be

catch us in white cloths

the order  is that we

must never touch the  ground

for then we perish magically

the powers of our beloved Freya

diminished and we be

wasted from

the wood of the cross

our unlocking

tragically.

Our almost pellucid berries

are wondrous gifts for they

provide  life giving nutrition

and some souls  have relied

birds and moths and others

find gracious repose

in their sustaining function

as thec Druidic Order knows

harvesting at Yuletide

becomes habitually

upsetting

in so many ways

the kiss under the tree

under the boughs  now withering

By the fireside they

stolen from the wintering  souls

who are perishing so to say

Christianity looks at this bold soul

and due to its pagan  tradition

have not allowed it to adorn the inside

of any church

except one Bristol Cathedral

But you will find holly ivy and laurel

how small minded  Christianity really is