Wild horses run in heavens amok 

her chariot blazes fire,

to me she is no less than god

I hold her temple higher.


She speaks the purest tongue of all

with words that cut through ages,

and all those men who hear her call

be freed from shackled cages.


She rolls around her wrap of stars,

then swivels to the Sun

and when we think her heart is ours,

is when her battles won.


◄ The mundane practices continue

Klavierstücke ►


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Wolfgar Miere

Sun 31st Jan 2016 12:38

Thanks Lea,

I do admit that last verse was quite pleasing. It makes her sound cheeky and almost provocative, which I enjoyed.

Thanks again,



Sun 31st Jan 2016 11:34

I love this too - my favourite bit - 'She rolls around her wrap of stars, /then swivels to the sun'

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Wolfgar Miere

Sat 30th Jan 2016 19:19

Thanks Adam,

I wanted a more imaginative title, but Gaia seemed simple and apt.

Many thanks.


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Adam Whitworth

Sat 30th Jan 2016 12:22


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