I wrote this the evening that I returned home from four days living out on Dartmoor and had emerged from my bath. Every time I come back to ‘the real world’ after spending days out in the wilds I always lament the loss of the smell of woodsmoke from my hair and clothes and the fact that my feet are shoe bound and not able to tread on grass. This poem is an ode to that feeling and a plea to the Goddess to help me stay a wild woman, even in my flat in the midst of a city.
Wyld Woman
As I wash the woodsmoke from my hair,
prising the soil from beneath my nails.
Oh Goddess, let me stay wild!
As the scent of the land leaves the grain of my skin
and the soles of my feet become soft again,
Oh Goddess, let me stay wild!
As the warmth of the sun on my skin in the field
is replaced by the glare of a 60 watt bulb
Oh Goddess, let me stay wild!
As I pull on my 8 holed Doc Martens
and stride out into the urban jungle
Oh Goddess, let me stay wild!
As the songs of the hearth are replaced by Pirate FM
and the drums cease to beat.
Oh Goddess, let me stay wild!
Oh Goddess, let me stay wild!
13.05.18
SeaWyld 