Maddy Prior
cruel mother short
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Sweet juices, crushed from the fruit run over her lips,
Down her breasts, down her body, down between her hips.
Strong legs wrap around a tree, squeezes with her thighs.
Breathes life through roots with quiet sighs.
A child she bears beneath its shade with labour hard and long.
A moment's tenderness, a moment's passion, short and sweet the song.
She cradles, then buries it beneath the earth, under a drowning moon.
Nourishment, blood and bone, for the roots to find.
The cruel mother lives in the grove, dancing her life away,
Sweet as the juice on a soldier's lips on a summer's day.
- Álbum:
- Seven For Old England
- Collections - A Very Best Of 1995 To 2005
- Ravenchild
- Ballads and Candles
- Celtic Spirits
- Flesh & Blood
- Taster
- Year
- Woman in the Wings
- The Quest
- No More to the Dance
- Memento: The Best of Maddy Prior
- The Acoustic Folk Box
- English Folk Anthology
- Flesh and Blood
- Happy Families
- Woman in the Wings (1994 Remaster)