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About the Author
Thyme Tempestarie has been writing poetry off and on, as well as a few short story ideas, for most of her life. She began seriously writing, mainly poetry, about 4 years ago. She has also been a follower of the “faery faeth” and shamanism for the last six years. For her, inspiration is usually found in nature, in faery tales, and the works of Charles de Lint, Brian Froud and Anne Rice. Tea, mainly earl grey, is a major fuel resource and magikal sustenance for her.
Thyme also keeps several journals of musings, dreams, and even a few drawings, and is currently putting a search for a publisher on hold to pursue a license in massage therapy and yoga instruction, but the Muse is a constant companion, and she hopes to have more poetry published online soon.
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Liselotte Eriksson
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Blood and Snow
Thyme Tempestarie
Snow gleams golden, beneath the light of autumn’s kiss;
Winds blowing wings that way and this.
Rains are falling in merry storm,
Beneath the skies, where blood runs warm.
A cave stands black against the white,
An entrance through the heart, beating, burning bright.
Dreams ride, formless and free
Upon drifts of laughter reigning from mystery
As moths become one with the flame
Like stars mingling in a celestial game.
Petals join the graces of snow
Within the darkness, free to flow
This burning cold
And blood so old,
Ancient before the moon and sun
When chaos and peace existed as one.
With the children of wilderness dancing their rings;
Unicorns dreaming, and the scaled one sings–
Winter boughs weaving these tales,
While the snow hag beckons upon the gales.
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