In the black furror of a field I saw an old witch-hare this night; And she cocked a lissome ear, And she eyed the moon so bright, And she nibbled of the green; And I whispered "Whsst! witch-hare," Away like a ghostie o’er the field She fled, and left the moonlight there.
The Green Man is a male aspect of the divine, shown in His summer glory. We have many artistic representatives of Him hanging on our walls and peaking out from obscure places. I am filled with peace and reminded of the strength of the forest whenever I see Him. This would make a good tattoo on my right arm, above my tree. I think this will be my next one