The Great Rite by Saroya Poirier & R. Paul Sardanas

All things are joined, and so we will celebrate life, the sacred connections that make us luminous in our own bodies, that bring us to the place where youth and wisdom, earth and sky, spirit and flesh, are embraced and exalted. Our coven is gathered, the circle is made, man, woman, man, woman, and in the center we stand, my priestess and I, vibrant heart in a ring of friends. Her back to the altar, mine to the constellations of the South, I look upon a daughter of the Goddess. Life looks to life, calls to life, sings and hungers and reaches to the glory that is life.

The meadow where we will perform our ritual is a gift from the Goddess. Surrounded by trees, their leaves make music in the gentle winds. Each time I am within these boundaries, I feel her magic wash over me. My skin begins to glow, my body hums with the vibrations of the earth. I feel that hands of the old Gods move though my body as I stand facing south. The pillars we have erected for this night covered in English ivy are awash with a soft glow from the torches that lit our path and now stand outside the circle. Within the circle we stand, High Priest and Priestess, prepared and ready. He stands before me magnificent in all his glory, clothed only in his robe. I stand draped only in a cloak of linen with a crown of the phases of the moon. He is my love as I am his, we stand together to bring this ritual to fruition. Soon we will begin. I will call the Goddess he shall call the God. Looking into his eyes, I know the time to begin has come.

I feel deeply changed when I see her, for no one can look on the Goddess, and not be changed. But she is also the woman who passes every day with me, every mundane moment, every simple, sharing breath. Such is the beauty of the moon’s phases, cool swelling to bright, companion to lover. Quietly our friends move one step closer in the circle; the energy of their presence brings our rhythms, body, earth, sky, into the greater circle of our spirits. I step to my priestess, and she smiles, as she smiled when we woke this morning, together in the same bed. The Goddess is radiant in her face, and I am almost overcome with the depth of her graces. My knees seek the grass, and the fivefold kiss opens out from my own center, where the primal man rests, where he stirs, where he wakes. Thy feet are blessed, they have carried thee here across our mother earth. Thy knees shall bend with mine, when the altar receives us. Thy womb is the bed of joy, and sacred, thy breasts are shaped in purest beauty. Blessed be thy lips, that will utter my name as the God enters me. Each place of her I kiss, and the grass crushed by my own knees bends upward as I rise through each phase, to where her breath drinks in the fifth and richest kiss.

As my lover priest places the first of five fold kisses upon my feet, the gentle touch of his lips sends a tremor through my body. His fingers a barely felt but delicate touch on my ankles. I revel in his physical presence, closing my eyes, breathing deeply of the warm spring air, listening to the night sounds of Mother Nature. I feel the approach of the Goddess as she moves among us. A collective sigh erupts from our circle as she passes. I shiver as my lover’s warm breath caresses my skin as he leans in to place the second kiss on my knees. All the while, his fingers trace lightly along my legs. I smell the scent of sage and incense hanging in the evening air from an earlier cleansing ritual. Knowing the progress each kiss will take, I wait in anticipation for the touch of his lips on the juncture of my sex.. The sensation of raw energy from the earth courses through the soles of my feet. I cannot stop the sharp intake of breath as his lips and tongue press against me, my body rocks with sensation of the third kiss. I feel her standing with me, ready to enter me with the final kiss. Powers greater than I have ever felt seem to stand with us. The hairs on my arms rise at the feel of the power surrounding us. The fires at each point of the pentagram flare with each kiss. The quiet chant gains strength and purpose colliding and recoiling with the energy surrounding all of us. My nipples harden of their own volition as he places the fourth kiss upon my breasts and I feel hands not his run down my back. Soft feminine hands, that at the very moment he places the fifth kiss on my lips, seem to become part of me.


I see more than the moonlight limned about her; she has opened herself, and the Great Feminine has entered in. She is more than my wife, and lays, face upward on the yielding grass, arms and legs outstretched, mirror of the pentagram. It is time for our friends to leave. A maiden, athame before her, motions to open the circle, and the coven files away, embracing the night, as we consecrate it for them. Now I too will call, for this is the moment of God and Goddess reunited. I kneel between her feet, and within me a sun begins to burn. Woman is the altar; as we invoke, we adore. The stars circle us, time's beat slows, the dark is understanding. Seed, stem, root, bud, leaf, flower and fruit. Jewel of light, I come to you. She rises up on her knees to face me; I am iron alight. I take her mouth; we are the pathway.. Her tongue is a wave pressed by the tide. I slide the linen cloak from her, the crown comes away in my hand, the moon lies beside us, circlet in the grass. Her hair, loose, stirs in the night breeze, and it is the Primal Man that takes it in his fist, pulling her even closer, poured into the crucible of his arms.

Laying on the warm earth the tickle of grass at hands and feet I feel the earth hold its breath. All around us is the scent of all that is earth. Great Mother, our coven will rejoice as earth accepts the fertility of our bodies; as my consort fills my womb with his seed. I look into the face of the man I love as he begins the next incantation. His aura bright as the God that stands with him; it seems the earth itself waits for the joining of man, woman, God and Goddess. He extends his hand, gazing into his eyes, I place mine in his warm grip. Rising to my knees, he presses his lips to mine, and a surge of power sparks between us. Our bodies glow at this touch of lips and tongue. Goddess and Consort mark this joining with your blessing; as I speak these words, I feel the God merge with my lover. In the distance, the coven’s chant drifts on a gentle breeze, the ebb and flow of many names: Danu, Freya, Hathor, Cyeble, Rhea, Isis, woven with the names of Freyr, Lono, Osiris, Pan, Eros, Hadad, the weaving and binding of God and Goddess. With the caress of each name I slip my hands inside my lord’s robe pushing it free of his shoulders to fall to the ground.. We are now flesh-to-flesh with the power of the Gods flowing through us. He too feels the power as each chanted name floats to the stars. I lay my head on his chest hearing the beat of two hearts.

The touch of her head against my breast brings me to the center of my heart and mind. I am all that a man can be: vessel of a God of life, lover to the woman who is life to me. Her scent fills me, and I twine my fingers into her night-caressed hair, holding her close against me. We have opened the secret way, beyond gates of night, beyond bounds of time. Here, where lance and grail unite, and feet and knees and breast and lips are portals of our joy in living. I lay back, drawing her down with me, so she straddles me; at last I enter her, and as she rides me I hear the voices of all who have come before us, woven into her moans of pleasure, chant without words, of a Goddess who is love. I open my eyes, and a new crown graces her head. The wheel of stars; it frames the Woman Incarnate. For a moment, she pauses there in her rapture, then slips down to lay her body on mine, and we are foot to foot, her breasts against me, her cheek next to mine. Her hands dig into the grass on both sides of my head, sky and earth are one, and I feel the heat from the world’s center rise within me, so that every nerve is alive. All other voices are stilled, save God and Husband, calling to Goddess and Wife, in a flood that fills my cock with the raging fire that is primal and pure beyond every chant, and all names fade into the point within the circle, the One that we have become.

All things Goddess surround me, as my lover’s erection fills me. My soul is open, free to mingle, flow and spread. Even now the grass around us is longer, more lush and alive as the God and Goddess laugh and love with us. The trees surrounding our meadow begin to sway and softly creak as Mother Nature joins in the ritual. The soft exquisite sounds of all things growing are a silent whisper, more felt then heard while the sounds and smells of sex fill the night air. The wet slapping sounds of our bodies in action, our moans and sighs of erotic delight echo off the pillars of our circle. God of the days, Goddess of the nights, bring our urgent mating to fruitful delight. May the Gods of love and lust give strength to my High Priest to complete this rite. May the fertility of my womb accept and welcome his seed. Gazing into his eyes I see his desire, need and love. I increase the movement of my hips as my inner muscles undulate, relax, then clutch his cock. My control slips away as the Goddess takes control of my movements. The frantic dance of the ultimate climax pulses through my being. My body shakes with the strength and ferocity of my orgasm. It is not just I who climaxes but also the Goddess with me. I scream as wave after wave of orgasm rocks my body. The pleasure not of mortal born reaches my soul as I feel my lover begin to moan and shiver in like fashion as he pumps his seed into my womb.

Time returns, and we lay at peace in the grass, once more simply husband and wife. Our touching is gentle now; the fierce consummation of the night is complete. We kiss, and drift together toward sleep, with final whispers of love. When morning greets us, we will rise and close the sacred circle, and return home. But life has been served; earth and sky, spirit and flesh. Life looks to life, calls to life, sings and hungers and reaches to the glory that is life.

Nymph

Clad only in nature’s garments sat a nymph of seventeen,
Her eyes like sparkling crystals with circles of vibrant green.
She leaned against an old oak tree next to a babbling stream,
Dreaming of starry nights and magic yet unseen.
She sang sweet melodies entwined with magic spells,
To entertain the woodland creatures and pixies in the dell.
Her voice so lovely it drew them all, from king to common fey,
They came from near and far to hear her magical serenade.

He followed the sound of tinkle bells a melody of beauty,
A song so sweet the flowers wept with joy at its singing.
He fell in love with her voice as he moved across the meadow,
A fine young prince from far away who stood quietly in shadow.
Tall and fair with flowing hair was this prince of Fairy,
A perfect match for the nymph who dreamed one day to marry.
In his quest through every glen and over hill and dale,
He sought out a fabled nymph of whom fates had deemed was ready.

The sky clad daughter of a goddess, the son of a fairy king,
Bring the summer flowers, with a wedding in the spring.
Sparkling like sunlight, motes of pixie dust float on air.
Dewdrops on flowers and a sprinkling of rain,
Multitudes of rainbows form a canopy up high.
As the residents of fairy, are summoned by the King.
Nature’s music plays, as she sings a sweet melody,
Of what love brought together by a babbling spring.

One day they will rule, in this land of wild magic,
The land that lies beyond the sight of any not of fairy.
Least you think that you may see, do not tarry long,
For sights not meant for human eyes, can be the cause of harm.
Magic is a wild thing best left to those who see,
With heart not mind and belief in all that should not be.

©Saroya Poirier

Melting Passion

Melting against the chair
Body only slightly satisfied
Thinking of someone far from here
Touching, moaning passionately
Flesh pulsing, desire increasing
Thighs gripping hips thrusting
Imagining touch hard and firm
Strong hands to guide and stir
Body wet from the heat of day
Desire melting away
Rising to finish the day

Warm Winds

Warm winds caressing
A light touch of hands
So delicate so unreal
Lips on mine, soft
So light so quick
Stealing my breath
Touching filling
Tasting reaching
Find me pleasure me
Turning missing
Come back
Stay don’t go
Filled with love
Yours no need to ask
Warm winds swirling
Wait don’t go
Don’t go

Please Be Real

Breathing sighing
Breath catching
Eyes closed
Imagining you

Why have you gone?
Were you ever real?
Come back be mine

Touch me,
Crying out
Body aching
Flesh needing

Near, are you near?
Hurry closer
Now, come now
Begging pleading

I can’t see you
Reaching out
Crying, crying
Please be real

Whoa is Me

All lust for somebody they can’t see
Nobody lusts for me, not really
Sweet to say, not something real
Maybe a few minutes in this day
Screaming, screaming, quietly
Can’t run yet, must protect
Save my sanity, save it, lose it
I am the castle where love dwells
I am the knight protector
I daren’t die, the walls will fall
I must be strong stand up tall
Weather the battering winds
It makes me sick it tears me up
So many people depend on me
Yet I have no help at all you see
No one really knows me,
Only whom they think is me
But who is that? Can you see?


Smiling for all who read,
It is this line I want to say,
For fun if nothing else says me.

OH Whoa is me. Poor me, See?
Here’s to you if you read
Have a drink on me, Cheers

©Saroya Poirier May 2, 2008

Part 6 The Lady and the Dark Prince

“You are waiting for my answer!” What do you expect me to say? That I love you and will never leave? That is not what you are going to hear. I loath you and wish to go home, but I” Her voice falters, and she turns her face away from him. Her breasts rise and shake with each ragged intake of breath, and tears roll down her face. She tries to repress any sounds of distress before he can hear them, but it’s too late. Filled with fear at her predicament, the pain she has endured, and the betrayal of her family, the tears will not stop.

He shifts position on the bed and strokes her brow, pushing the hair from her eyes. Distraught, she barely notices the gentle touch. Images of the past weeks flash through her mind. Memories of what has transpired come back; she remembers little bits here and there.

In torment, she pulls against her restraints, screaming, “Let me go, let me go, you bastard. Release me, please, please untie me.” The skin on her wrists and ankles becomes red. Blood speckles the chafe marks. Throwing her head back in anger and frustration, she screams.

He rolls to the edge of the bed and looks at her over his shoulder a disgusted expression on his face. He shakes his head and moves to stand. His eyes narrow he growls at her, “Stop thrashing. You’re hurting yourself.”
He reaches out and grasps her ankle. Angry, yells obscenities and tries to kick him .

“Quiet!” he says.

There is so much menace in that one word, she stops screaming. He grabs her ankle, pulling so hard he lifts her off the mattress, nearly yanking her hip out of its socket, the bindings the only thing keeping her on the bed. Shocked that he lifted her with one hand, she is more afraid of him now then when he whips her.

Her voice comes out in a whisper. “I will do whatever you want just release me.” The bed creaks under her continuing struggles and the sound seems loud “Please, just release me,” she begs, “please.”

He looks the length of her body from her well-formed feet to her tear streaked face, and says, “I may release you from this bed, but you are never leaving this castle, you are here to stay, nothing is going to change in that regard.” Untying first one ankle then the other he examines the damage. Running his fingers over each ankle, pleased that it isn’t as bad as it looked. He lifts her leg higher running one hand down her calf he leaning in and licks the blood from her ankle. Startled she tries to jerk her foot out of his grip; that action only causes his fingers to tighten. She winces’ forcing herself to relax.


Trailing one hand along her body, he traverses the few steps to the head of the bed. Removing the last binding, he examines her wrist as he did her ankles. She watches him and tries not to squirm. He looks into her eyes, turning her hand slowly over he gently kisses her palm. Confused she doesn’t know what is going on. One minute he scares and abuses her, the next he is tender. The complexity of this situation changes from one minute to the next, he treats her like a prisoner, then a lover. He tells her nothing, not her location or his future intentions. Exhausted all she wants to do is sleep. The bed gives as he places one knee next to her instead of going around to the other side; he leans over her body and unties the last rope. Blushing at his nakedness, she closes her eyes and turns away. As he pulls her arm over her chest, his hand crazes her breasts. He sits on the bed next to her and repeats his ministrations, right down to the kiss. He says nothing as he works, then abruptly stands and moves toward the fireplace. The chamber has cooled the fire burning down. Tossing two logs onto the embers the blaze leaps to life causing sparks to fly up the chimney.

Watching from the bed as he retrieves his pants, he says not a word to her. With one last look at her, he leaves the chamber. As always, the next sound is the key turning in the lock.