As keen as love betrayed, the thorns of broom
sharp stab, the flood of blood a raging red.
You plucked the double rose, you stole the groom.

Did he persuade you with his tale of doom?
Did you believe that Hell-bound he was led?
As keen as love betrayed, the thorns of broom

I saved him from sweet death, undid his tomb
when from his horse I brought him to my bed.
You plucked the double rose, you stole the groom.

While I spin ageless beauty at my loom,
With green and gold you wove a snaring thread
as keen as love betrayed, the thorns of broom.

And now his seed tide wriggles in your womb …
He should have lived unending years, instead
you plucked the double rose, you stole the groom.

Beware, green-kirtled lass, the young man whom
you love, has not a heart of flesh to shred.
As keen as love betrayed, the thorns of broom
You plucked the double rose, you stole the groom.

[Hailing from Zaragoza in North-East Spain, Manuel W Balaguer-Cortés has been living in Scotland for over two decades. His writing meanders around the world of nature and that of sacred myth, and it is informed by a Pagan Polytheist spirituality. He also plays European traditional music on a number of weird woodwind instruments. His work can be found in various British and American publications and he was shortlisted for the 2015 Poetic Republic Poetry Competition.]