On nights of drink and fire
they speak, as men will do,
in awe of her they spoke,
The Lady of Gorlois
the madame of men's hearts
She danced in pulsing tunes,
as down her supple back, fell
strands of golden, liquid flame
        bells dripped from her arms
    rubies from her throat
One night, one dance
the embodiment of lust,
oftimes the obsession beyond
it's touch born between her writhing limbs
beneath her arching back and swirling skirts
within her bones she caught
the sight and seed of Pendragon
Duchess of Cornwall she was
-oh, the crest of curving breast-
the captured Queen she became
From her womb came forth the Queen of Avalon,
the Once and Future King,
the future of a land
All whose fate were drawn
from the power of a dance, the beauty of a woman
And still,
On nights of drink and fire
they speak of her in awe
Igraine, the Lady of Gorlois
.
-Moon Sidhe © 1999