From full she darkens, failing, fading
Remembers climb and zenith, her creation
Twained moons they brighten, building, waxing
Reflected trine light, still needs but one
Still yet she dims, should she not shun
A final journey of making new
If ‘twould be ‘complished, must now she run
And claim Creatrix days, hers now so few
The matrix closes dry as the dew
To leave the Twain to grow alone
“No!” she cries, “Not only two
“‘gain I will birth the flesh, the bone!”
Fervored glories not unbecoming she who as a Goddess
Passion’d pains forthgiving: another yet to bless.
art, children, dance, death, feri, paganism, poetry, reclaiming, religion, sex, unborn
Comedic Gymnastics? Hells Yeah!
Paul Hunt, a renown gymnast and women’s coach, never took himself or his sport too seriously. He blended comedy with skill and his ever-present alter ego, Señora Pauletta, became a fan fave. Here she is, pretty in pink and pigtailed to boot, tackling the uneven bars. Her form is a little off, but she’s flipping funny for the win. Wait for the landing — it’s comedy gold!
The workshop before, actually. I watched the show afterwards, but since it was my first time learning this stuff…
Bellydance at the Beach