By Leilani Ahia

To My Mother’s Friend

Let me tell you of the walk
you missed this evening
because you did not care for wet
and cold
and the land’s natural state.
I ventured into
that was not salty enough to be fog
or heavy enough to be mist
but was more obscurity.
The lights along the path were softened.
The path darkened by rain, meandered
out before my feet. And even a witch in training
could feel the magick rising up from the water.
A goose almost befriended me!
Or was it a good folk robed in feathers
and crowned in glorious beak?
They stole forth with the darkness
knowing no star would see their deeds
and no moon would find them.
And as their reign began
my heart quickened
and my head, dizzied by imaginings,
of sights that should never be beheld by mortals,
considered hiding myself away for the night.
But I was certain
I would no longer be here
the morning.

Snow Siren

Desire me, Lord Winter,
and I shall never leave your side.
Maiden fair wrapped in fur and clothed in a flurry
shall walk the frosted cities
and meander by still waters.
With coos I shall coax the birds to sleep
and provide powder for the children.
My skin shall pale and blue,
my cheeks at first rosy shall harden and wax,
but my eyes shall remain fervent, as the evergreen.
The flashing of green in white
delights young men,
but only the most bold adventurers
follow maiden’s foot into snow bank
and onto powdered ice.
But I would ne’er bring but the finest
for your appeasement
dear Lord Winter.


It would be easier if I didn’t belong to you.
Wrapped in blankets
Shuffling around your countryside
But not yours.
It would be easier to see you from the outside.
Eating at your dinner table
Some sharing respectable conversation
Others silenced
And me quiet
outside your window.
It would be easier if people stopped giving you to me.
Telling me you’re in my hands
Claiming I’m responsible for you
When all I wanted
Was peace.
Never a day in my life have you given me peace.
You warred
You killed
You bombed
You shot
You destroyed
To keep me safe?
It kept you safe.
It would be easier if I didn’t belong to you
especially when you say
You don’t want me.


About the Author:
Leilani Ahia grew up in Fullerton, California with her parents and two brothers. She immersed herself in the performing arts in her adolescence, graduating with a Bachelor of Music in Vocal Performance from Azusa Pacific University. Performing art songs and operas in various languages has informed her pursuit of the written word. Leilani currently resides in Kansas City, Missouri, where she works for the United Methodist Church in children and family ministries. Her debut in Adelaide Magazine’s Summer Issue marks her first publishing.