Naw Morwynion
A Bard am I with a tale to tell
and you may be captured by the spell.
From the Elder days of yesteryear
of Nine Maidens you shall hear.
How they came to be born in our land
and in a circle came to stand.
Nine Stones in a magic ring -
Each one a Maiden, daughter of a King.
Lir, his name, Lord of the Sea:
Nine Mermaid Princesses had he.
Up a river valley they swam to a hill,
Where they danced in a circle
and then stood still.
The Nine Muses as stone became
and each was given her bardic name.
Nine Maidens, born from One,
through Nine Springs her waters run.
Nine silver moonbeams, bright -
Mood Goddess of the Night.
Nine Morgans of the Lake
here in Avalon awake.
Nine Maidens of the sea:
peace to you and blessed be.
Nine maidens of the stones -
circle of our Mother's bones.
Merry Maidens in a ring:
see them dance and hear them sing!
In the merry month of May
on the Druid Sabbath day
Poets sing and Bards play
to the Nine Maidens.
Nine Queens with silver crowns
rising from the barrow mounds
bear a cauldron in their hands -
Grail Maidens of our Lands.
Nine Ladies of the well
many a tale they have to tell
from Lyonesse to the shore,
Tintagel to the Tor.
Priestesses of the Grail:
to the Goddess 'All Hail!'
Merry Maidens, Nine
Muses of the Mother.
I saw Nine Stones
and on each carved a number,
with words engraved
which I read out loud:
'Nine Moons there are
from conception to birth.
Eight turns of the wheel
through the seasons of the earth.
Seven tones in colour and sound.
Six Kings, Six Queens
of the Table Round.
Five seeds hidden in the Apple, green.
Four elements Spirit flows between.
Three are the faces of the Moon Goddess.
Two is Creation from nothingness.
One is free from separateness!'
I invoke the Goddesses of the Sea,
the Nine Muses so that we
may compose an incantation
from the land of the Sidhe.
She is the blazing fire on the hill.
She is the spring where we drink our fill.
Healing Goddess of Poetry:
may the Nine Muses return!
Nine Muses to Avalon lead
the way through the mists
to the hall of mead.
They pass a chalice of heather ale
the cup of life, the Holy Grail.
The bubbling cauldron of Cerridwen,
the three drops of the Awen.
Bestowing rebirth beyond the grave
the Tir-nan-Og, beyond the Ninth Wave,
where the Nine Morgans reawake -
the Nine Ladies of the Lake.
By the shores of the lake I lay dreaming
of Nine Swan Maidens singing.
Nine daughters of Lir, enchanted
by a spell - human forms transmuted.
For Nine long Moons, unchanging,
mortal men - their lovers lamenting.
On the eve of May, returning,
I pray the spell is lifting?.
from the lake Nine Maidens arising?.
from the lake Nine Maiden are Rising!
Hail Nimue - to Avalon welcome!
Olwen, Branwen, Bridie, Blodwen,
Aine, Avaline, Vivian, Morgan!
© Merlin of the Woods
