The Savage Cauldron



Unbending cypress pines
embrace the stony shore
cling to fragile mountain sides
in awe of tide's immeasurable force
safe distance from ocean's touch
yet, tribal roots caught deep in clay
long for home to be with sea

Like a promise in the face of love
amber's honey swells to seep
through gnarled old weathered trunks
seducing tiny dragon flies
alighting on the golden sap, to stick
trapped in sudden violence
transfixed for immortality
Apollo's tears vitrified
in winter's bitter mist
to end submerged
engulfed in tempest
fallen into ocean's breadth

Merlin's magical forest
a wilderness of burning stones
wait on time's unbidden plan
to weave it's work of wonder
amber's rare raw loveliness
cradled in a watery grave
sealed within a savage cauldron




Pamela Sidney 1999

The Amber Seekers


From far most east we seek
rare red amber of the sun
sacred amber, most precious
hauled by trade route pilgrims
through spired and wailing cities
hawked in kif-dens by vagabonds
where dreamers lie in the smoke of oblivion

bartered in golden silk bazaars
amber necklets to protect our children
amulets of amber we carry home
to lie in barrow by bard and druid
freshly buried for their Otherworld

we left behind only fragments
wroughted silver brooches
bronze shields buried below the earth
whimsical scraps of poetry
swords of chieftains fallen
to raw and bloody battle

and in the deathly pall that lingers after war
rows of those of our enemy's heads
mounted on poles in sacrifice

and great Bran's head never at rest
respectfully moved from place to place
'til final burial in the White Hill
his last insistent request

you know our rights of fertility
surrender to the greening spring
our kinship with fire
as winter season closes in
and the great flood
that drove us far from place
and our fear, always our fear
the sky would fall in on us

reluctant wayfarers, moving
always to a different place
longing for a land unseen
unknown, but in our hearts

our Land of Everlasting Youth
a place to lay our swords in peace
and so we follow a restless yearning
forever seeking new territory
new home - always a new place




Pamela Sidney 1998

Land of Faerie


Come to the amber forest
to the sacred grove of burning stones
come brave soldier to the cauldron of Ana
place your cheek on my burnished bowl
the sword will crease your throat asunder
from ear to ear deft and clean
until your soul, liquid in the bowl
makes pale your face to charge the pole
and spring-wreathed in wildest primrose
your body, perfumed for the journey.

Now I be the eyes of my tribe
a vision glints through gilded fire
glass towers shimmer fathoms below
swallowed in a raging torrent
made invisible eons ago
a watery grave for our crystal isle
sweet land of beginnings
fleet memory of belonging
origins for briefest time recalled
our land of faerie, citadel of crystal
conjured from pain of sacrifice
remembered for you my tribe
where tales live on
we all survive




Pamela Sidney 1999