Sweet Acacia

Ron Koppelberger

Sweet Acacia

Her primary transgression, the outlaw array was the reason for the fracas, the mythical horde. She anticipated the perseverance of sunshine and its facilitating cycles of revolution, nevertheless she deliberated on the silhouette of shadow and magic blessings. She possessed a rare inclination to fine spun, brewed and bartered sources of power, her desire to attain perhaps, in a dollop of eternity and even immortality.
The spirits were in hungry measures of flowing wine. A cauldron of wine and sweet acacia, the blossom of tender ascension and resonant wont, this was the brew the taste of what gives the sustenance of forever an endless disposition. She hummed and sang,

“Sweet Acacia dire seeds of

Lazy mazy brew…..broil

And roil, in sweet passions

Of blossoming ascension, express the

Desire of acacia and bud, make this

Mix radiant and in waves of fury,

Flames in the bond of surety and ash,

Bring forth my garden and my sash!”

She stirred the viscous mix and prayed. Tendrils of mist wafted in a myriad of blossoming dreams and demons and she drank deeply in contemplation of her potion and the will of an ageless bloom, given life unto the seeds of eternity and a lasting measure of immortal twilight.