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
Rex Tyler is a Poet, Campaigner, former owner of an organic shop of 30 years, and Public Speaker living in Berkhamsted, UK.