top of page
  • Eliza Tungusnakur

Hawthorne Aisle (Valley of the Trickster)

Carry those mortal treads,


Your Hawthorne aisle.

“Walk forward, Come towards Me, Child.”

Ah, I’m in Your House


Loptr, Sire.

“But I am, always, In your house; It’s the same, my Fire.”

Shivering in the


Of this novel Haven.

When the fog Lifts, sun stings, Embrace your Elation.

Grant me Your Truth!

Come out, Scar Lip —

Show Your Face!

Here now, The wind howls like the Kulning, oh Grace.

Two cards

Spit, crooning;

Lands a neat row:

“Darling, We should give it a go.” …Would you really ask me so?

Teacher, Protector,

Lover —

Here is my Church.

Skin prickling, we Ramble down Hawthorne, No longer in search.

Between familiar slopes,

There and here, You say:

“Build me a Home.”

Where, here? In our Chaote House I’ll write songs to Old Love.

Remember this

As the Day

That Sky Treader, stared.

Bedlam God, Dandelion in palm, Eyes alight, sweared: “Sváss, we’d make an excellent pair.”


Eliza Tungusnakur

Eclectic Technopagan. Student of Animism. Dark Folk Music Nerd. Part-time goth. Loki Devotee. Creating Community. She/Her, 33, Scotland.


19 views0 comments

Related Posts

See All

Search Tags

Search Authors

bottom of page