You claim it’s not on the cards 
And fate is pulling you away and out of reach of me 
But you’re here in my heart 
So who could stop me if I decide that you are my destiny?
What if we rewrite the stars?

Well ...we can rewrite the stars.. and what’s more, I think we should.  
I'm Annie Dieu-Le-Veut and I write and broadcast on shamanism and the star mysteries and in this podcast, I explain about how our destinies may not be what we thought they were.

Music: Elemental by Ryan Kenneth Ford

Why Don't We Rewrite The Stars? (podcast) featuring Ryan Kenneth Ford

That feeling... when your dreams are so good, you just don't want to wake up. 

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, August 2023, all rights reserved.

Lyrics:
Exploding Dreams
Sleep can bring dreams that explode without warning,
So you long for the clock to hold back the morning,
Just a few more winks under Elysium’s elms, 
In the Brigit-bright night of other realms,
Of purple-hued mountains, high overflying
On a long-necked, long-legged crane, of Love undying.

In Persephone’s land, pomegranates gleam, 
Glistening cobwebs with rainbow dew stream. 
Demeter gliding through fields of cornflowers
Like lapis-lazuli, in the wee small hours.
Where Beauty walks in She, throughout the Night,
Veiled behind delicate, silver-winged sprites.

Crepuscular dark of the Land of the Fae,
Deep Saturnine pitch. Not such gaudy Day,
So brassily attired; it’s carbon klieg light 
An insult and blasphemy to my sight...
But wait ... rose light at the window calls us.
Aurora is here and with her, the dawn chorus.
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut 



Music by Paul Foss 
Contact: paul@paulfossmusic
Dawn chorus by the birds of Glastonbury, Somerset.

Art: Fairy Forest by TheNocturnal Spirit on DeviantArt

Exploding Dreams

Words and Vocals by
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut

I miss my love ... I miss him bad
I miss the golden nights we had.

Our dance on the thirteen moons
Of Ophiuchus overarching,
Serpent slayer, divine bridegroom,
The philosopher’s child rebirthing. 

Red Rose unfolded her downy lips.
Cobalt clouds shot with lightening,
Flashed across the desolate Wasteland,
The well maidens enlightening.

We heard the fairy dog bark and the Elven shout,
And the sound of paradigms shattering,
The rain fell in silver peals to end the drought,
The bells of freedom were clashing. 

I miss my love, I miss his play, 
I miss him even though we never met
Not in this world, anyway.

Music: Mourning In Arid Lands [Full version] by MusicLFiles
Free download: https://filmmusic.io/song/11172-mourning-in-arid-lands-full-version
Licensed under CC BY 4.0: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license

Art: Hurry up to love by vyrhelle-vyrl on DeviantArt

I Miss My Love

A sound lesson, in 432 hz, on how to compose healing poetry and music, from Mercury who's often depicted in alchemical symbolism as a serpent, and without whom no creative endeavour can come to fruition. 

Big thanks to the incredible Ryan Kenneth Ford for this extraordinary music. You can find him here: @ryankennethford

Words and vocals: © Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, September 2023. 

Music: © Ryan Kenneth Ford, September 2023.
https://linktr.ee/RyanKennethFord 

Lyrics:
Great Earthen sprites under diamond skies
Of Beltane constellations,
Rocked me to sleep with a lullaby,
Lunar mansions of star nations.
In magical flight, 
Hush hush, good night,
To chrysanthemum plantations,
Where sun keepers gather together, to baptise
With kisses from carnations. 

The split-forked tongue of the serpent god 
Sparked red from among the clover.
Like Alice, adrift and over-awed
I knew all sense was over.
I felt a fraud
Tongue too roughshod,
For this wordsmith lover. 
He handed me a measuring rod,
And the rhythm held, moreover.

He told me to leave the meaning behind, 
And just let the drum beat free
He said that the rhythm of the rhyme
Would be the remedy. 
Healing song lines
Across all times
Not for left brains, you see.
More like the waves at royal Lyme,
That come and go to the sea. 

Cover Art: Eve Tempted by the Serpent
William Blake (1757–1827)
Victoria and Albert Museum

The Serpent's Teaching (music by Ryan Kenneth Ford)

For those who prefer to go into shamanic trance via ambient binaural beats.

Of course, just listening to shamanic drumming per se won’t send you into trance. You will need to be trained in how to do it, and I offer that training here in Glastonbury, Somerset, England. 

Drumming: Annie Dieu-Le-Veut 
Production: Ryan Kenneth Ford
linktr.ee/RyanKennethFord

Copyright owner: © Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, October 2023

Sound recording by Karen Procter

Shamanic drumming (432 Hz) by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut

Poem and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, Samhain 2023

Music: Epicly Vocalized by Tim Kulig
@timkuligfreemusic
Free download: https://filmmusic.io/song/8729-epicly-vocalized
Licensed under CC BY 4.0: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license

Arrangement: maivana.film https://soundcloud.com/themaivana

Cover Art: Alchemy by ExetersKiss on DeviantArt


Lyrics:

It’s dark at the heart of the labyrinth
Where the Black Swan glides along the Styx. 
She seems quite serene and peaceful,
But deep down in the stygian depths,
The blacksmith’s forging irons 
Are raging against one another
In her bag of tricks, 
The bag of the Creatrix. 

It’s dark at the heart of the labyrinth
Where the waters of the Moon boil in the fire of the Sun, 
And there’s no peace nor contentment,
Just dissolution, extreme agitation,  
Fermentation and putrefaction, 
Until the Birth of the Philosopher’s Stone.

The Philosopher's Stone

A poem inspired by Eros that allegorises the penultimate stage in the process to birth the Philosopher's Stone, known to alchemists as the Marriage of the Sun and the Moon or the Peacock's Tail. 

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
Music by maivana.film, @themaivana 
Cover art: Ryan Kenneth Ford 

LYRICS:

I know a dell where the willow mint grows,
Where bluebells chime in the midnight hallows,
And bowers of may and honeyed suckle
Curtain the congress of loving couples
As paired collard doves are cooing in swoon
At this, the Marriage of the Sun and the Moon. 

The Peacock’s tail is a courtesan’s fan 
As he dances a slow Bharatanatyam.
The rose on the throne folds back her calyx
And releases her nectars into the chalice
For the bee, so lustful ...and yet so tender
At her grace, at such sweet surrender. 

Deep in this Garden of Earthly Delights
Sleeps Beauty, sometime of the night,
Her perfumed lap that poets eulogise.
All the Love of the world is in Her eyes.
And there, the Serpent is rising once more
To fire up the ways and open the doors.


© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, October 2023

The Garden Of Earthly Delights v.1

The words "Know Thyself" were written over the doorway of the Temple of Apollo in Delphi, where people would go to consult the Oracle, Pythia, for her wisdom. 

I'm very grateful to Ryan Kenneth Ford for his stirring and epic music. You can find him here: @ryankennethford

Music by Ryan Kenneth Ford, tuned to 432 Hz. 
Vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut

Original Song: Embrace Your Essence by Ryan Kenneth Ford

All Links: linktr.ee/RyanKennethFord

Instruments: Violins, violas, celli, basses, french horns, choir, Heavyocity symphonic destruction, braams hits, swells,
Damage 2 drums, takio, gran cases, trash can,
Samples: Ghosthack atonal riser 4, BTS - VO - downer 2.
Ai vocal

Embrace Your Essence
Artist Ryan Kenneth Ford 
IPI/CAE 1087894598 
Key C Maj 
Tempo 130 Bpm
Genre Epic Trailer
Tuned 440 Hz,
Composer: Ryan Kenneth Ford
Music producer: Ryan Kenneth Ford
Mix and mastered: Ryan Kenneth Ford
© ℗ 06/08/2023 Ryan Kenneth Ford All rights reserved.

(PRS): IPI/CAE 1087894598

© ℗ 06/08/2023 Ryan Kenneth Ford [100%] copyright holder [100%] One stop clearance [100%] master and [100%] publishing control.

Contact: Email: ryankennethford@gmail.com 
phone +447415595096

#RyanKennethFord #epictrailermusic #epictrailer #Mediacomposer #orchestral #electronicmusic #filmtrailer #tv #film #games #taunton #somerset #england

Know Thyself (music by Ryan Kenneth Ford)

The prayer of the shaman to the four directions before beginning any new ceremony, tuned to 432 Hz.  

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, November 2023

Music by Evandro B Lira, Vintage Mutation
https://soundcloud.com/evandro_b_lira. 
November 2023

Words: 
I bow to the four directions. 

To the East. The red dawn air 
Sighing over the China seas, 
Blow the nomad trade winds 
Along your Silk Road, 
Your Bay of Bengal 
And swirling pyres of Varanasi, 
Through the temples of Tibet 
And the spiced Vedic lees. 
Bring Vayu's sweet sylphs 
To inspire our creativity. 

To the West. The deep Atlantic 
Heaves and tosses the merrows,
Your swirling whirlpools 
And drowned, forgotten reefs
Of mermaids and mer-men 
On high waves and farrows. 
Bring up from Lir's feet 
That purest of aqua cold. 
Sail it fast over the Irish sea 
And across the Menai roll 
To wash away our pain and fear 
And heal our troubled souls. 

To the North. Soil of our minds,
Your caves of quartz and tourmaline
And your blue melting glaciers 
Birthing borates from ice 
Under the Borealis, the stars 
Circling like glittering brides. 
Roll your satyrs and sylvestres 
Through the bleak Calanish stones 
Over the rivers, brooks and glens, 
To the oolite gold of Avalon  
It's Thirteen Treasures and gems. 

To the South. Cast your castanets 
Your smouldering salamanders, 
Your fierce Romany cantinas
Your red lipped, red hipped skies,
And your sultry, dusky sun-downers. 
When the frangipani and mimosa 
Whispers with exotic aroma 
And the heart promises ‘Soon’, 
Give us the southern comfort, 
The tango and the wild fandango 
To spark our dancing shoes. 

© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, 2023

The Medicine Wheel

Mary's song of joy about her pregnancy, while at the house of her cousin Elizabeth.  Also known as the Song of Mary and the Canticle of Mary and, in the Byzantine tradition, the Ode to the Theotokos. It is one of the eight most ancient Christian hymns and perhaps the earliest Marian hymn.

Copyright © Annie Dieu-Le-Veut and Paul Foss, December 2023

Main vocal: Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
Backing vocals: Paula Wallwork
Music by Paul Foss, paul@paulfossmusic.com 


Words from Luke 1:46-55, New Testament: 

My soul does magnify the Lord. And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Saviour. For he has regarded the lowliness of his handmaiden. For behold, from henceforth, all generations shall call me blessed.

Magnificat anima mea Dominum.  Et exsultavit spiritus meus in Deo salutari meo.  Quia respexit humilitatem ancillae suae.  Ecce enim, ex hoc beatam me dicent omnes generationes.


For he that is mighty has magnified me.   And holy is his Name. And his mercy is on them that fear him, throughout all generations. He has shown strength with his arm.   He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.

Quia fecit mihi magna, qui potens est.  Et sanctum nomen eius.  Et misericordia eius in progenies et progenies timentibus eum. Fecit potentiam in brachio suo.  Dispersit superbos mente cordis sui.


He has put down the mighty from their seats: and has exalted the humble and meek. He has filled the hungry with good things: and the rich he has sent empty away. He remembering his mercy has helped his servant Israel: As he promised to our forefathers, Abraham and his seed for ever. 

Deposuit potentes de sede, et exaltavit humiles. Esurientes implevit bonis et divites dimisit inanes. Suscepit Israel puerum suum, recordatus misericordiae suae.  Sicut locutus est ad patres nostros, Abraham, et semini eius in saecula.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost; As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end.   Amen.

Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum.

Magnificat

An erotic poem that allegorises the final stage in the process to birth the Philosopher's Stone, known to alchemists as the Marriage of the Sun and the Moon or the Peacock's Tail. 

Lyrics and music: Copyright © Annie Dieu-Le-Veut and Paul Foss, December 2023. 
Vocals: Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
Musical arrangement: Paul Foss, contact: paul@paulfossmusic.com
Cover art: Detail from The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch (1450-1516) 


I know a dell where the willow mint grows,
Where bluebells chime in the midnight hallows,
And bowers of may and honeyed suckle
Curtain the congress of loving couples
As paired collard doves are cooing in swoon
At this, the Marriage of the Sun and the Moon. 

The Peacock’s tail is a courtesan’s fan 
As he dances a slow Bharatanatyam.
The Rose on the Throne folds back her calyx
And releases her nectars into the Chalice
For the bee, so lustful ...and yet so tender
At her grace, at such sweet surrender. 

Deep in this Garden of Earthly Delights
Sleeps Beauty, sometime of the night,
Her perfumed lap that poets eulogise.
All the Love of the world is in Her eyes.
And there, the Serpent is rising once more
To fire up the ways and open the doors.

The Garden of Earthly Delights

Lyrics and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, January 2024 


I must go down to the inner seas again, to the darkest bluest deeps
And all I ask is for Neptune’s star to guide me, while my heart slowly weeps, 
Down and down, past the siren’s song and the whales with their sonic booms,
Through forests of waving kelp and the mermaids’ mother-of-pearl tombs.

I must go down into the deeps again, that mirror the vast night skies, 
It’s a wild call, and a clear call that my soul cannot deny. 
And all I ask is for Mary’s grace and Jupiter’s justice on me 
While I plumb the depths of Venus’s birth to sacred epiphany. 

I must descend in the inner seas again, to dissolve my brittle form
To the way of the shaman, the way of the soul, the way of the unicorn, 
And all I ask is that I’m guided true and led to the Divine Lover, 
And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long voyage is over.

Music:  Meditation Background Atmosphere by Instrumentals for You

SFX: water_ocean_waves_break_on_beach_001 from Zapsplat.com 

Cover Art: By Sandro Botticelli - Adjusted levels from File:Sandro Botticelli - La nascita di Venere - Google Art Project.jpg, originally from Google Art Project. Compression Photoshop level 9., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=22507491

The Birth Of Venus

A shaman's description of the Underworld.

I'm very grateful to Andreas Pirner for his inspirational and magical music. You can find him here:  @api_zz

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, January 2024

Music composition by APi-ZZ (Andreas Pirner) 
© APi_ZZ, January 2024  (Andreas Pirner) 
https://soundcloud.com/api_zz

Cover art: Microcosmic Universe by youvebeenowned on Deviant Art 

Lyrics:

I once used to hear that the Underworld 
Was a flaming Hell down below the Earth,
Where sinners were roasted on spits,
And where Satan held court as Lucifer 
Over boiling, putrifying pits.
We were frightened when young by this grim tale.
But it isn’t at all like that. I assure you, I know...
Lucifer is the light bringer, the morning star 
The Underworld is a place where all life grows
And it isn’t even very far...

This dimension of the Multiverse
This Underworld

It is Dreamtime to the aborigines,
A night black land of fertile potential,
Where star seeds of new possibilities
Sprout in the dark from the quintessential
Before birthing into form. 
It’s where Coleridge found Kubla Khan’s 
Stately pleasure dome was decreed. 
And where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Straight down to a sunless sea,
Through caverns measureless to man...

In this dimension of the Multiverse
This Underworld

It is here that the enlightened artist goes
To these dark, echoing caverns,
To mine, like the dwarves of Erebor,
Boons already dreamt into being,
Buried in a golden seam of ore. 
They ferry their treasures along the Alph, 
And then finally out into this bright world of day,
Their cargo unloads itself by crystal telegraph
If they’ve been careful not to spill a single
Drop along the way...

From this dimension of the Multiverse
This Underworld

They smelt the ore with the heat of their passion 
Into masterpieces of paintings, poetry and song,
They are humbled with gratitude as they fashion
These healing gifts from another realm,
A place that can cause no wrong. 

So this is the real Underworld, I hope you can see 
The source of all great art born from natural alchemy. 

© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, January 2024

Underworld

Before a shamanic ceremony, it is the usual practice to make a prayer to the spirits of the four directions. This is my own version.

Words and vocals
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, 2023 

Music
APi_ZZ (© Andreas Pirner) 
https://soundcloud.com/api_zz

Cover Art: 
Medicine Wheel by Marnie Recker 
Buy a print of it here: https://www.etsy.com/au/listing/901699327/medicine-wheel-print-11x14


Lyrics:
I bow to the four directions. 

To the East. The red dawn air 
Sighing over the China seas, 
Blow the nomad trade winds 
Along your Silk Road, 
Your Bay of Bengal
And swirling pyres of Varanasi, 
Through the temples of Tibet 
And the spiced Vedic lees. 
Bring Vayu's sweet sylphs 
To inspire our creativity. 

To the West. The deep Atlantic 
Heaves and tosses the merrows,
Your swirling whirlpools 
And drowned, forgotten reefs
Of mermaids and mer-men 
On high waves and farrows. 
Bring up from Lir's feet 
That purest of aqua cold. 
Sail it fast over the Irish sea 
And across the Menai roll 
To wash away our pain and fear 
And heal our troubled souls. 

To the North. Soil of our minds,
Your caves of quartz and tourmaline
And your blue melting glaciers 
Birthing borates from ice 
Under the Borealis, the stars 
Circling like glittering brides. 
Roll your satyrs and sylvestres 
Through the bleak Calanish stones 
Over the rivers, brooks and glens, 
To the oolite gold of Avalon  
It's Thirteen Treasures and gems. 

To the South. Cast your castanets 
Your smouldering salamanders, 
Your fierce Romany cantinas
Your red lipped, red hipped skies 
And your sultry, dusky sun-downers. 
When the frangipani and mimosa 
Whispers with exotic aroma 
And the heart promises ‘Soon’, 
Give us the southern comfort, 
The tango and the wild fandango 
To spark our dancing shoes. 

© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, 2023

The Medicine Wheel v2

The Dagda was the creator god of the Irish fairy race, the Tuatha Dé Danann, who, in Celtic myths, ejaculates into the River Boyne, dedicated to the goddess Boann. Here I combine this star metaphor with our growing knowledge about cymatics, and about how archaeologists discovered that the shapes of the shells of the fossils change all at once, at the beginning of every Vedic Age (25,772 years). 

Lyrics:

The Dagda stood, phallus firmly in hand 
One foot on Red Mountain, the other on Newgrange. 
While miles below him flowed the River Boyne 
And the pleasure boats of happy folk 
Oblivious to the existence of 
This giant of the Tuatha dé Danann, 
The creator god of their race. 

He was waiting for Her. 
He was waiting for Boann, 
He was waiting for Her Voice, 
As he had done, many times before, 
Over countless aeons... 

He was waiting for Her Voice, 
The love song that would sing into being 
The turning of the Ages, 
The command for the waves to change their shapes. 

Only He could hear Boann’s Voice, 
Only The Dagda’s ears were pure 
From the chattering white noise 
And seductive sirens’ spells 
That others were bound by. 
He had no interest in their words. 
To him they were just like 
The mating cries of hump-backed whales, 
A long way off in the distance. 

He wondered what she’d sound like, this time? 
What love song would She sing 
To build the new waves of the new Age? 
Then he heard it. He heard it... 

It was coming towards him on the wind. 

Suddenly her soft lips were on His ear, 
And she sang Her song 
Into the long, winding labyrinth 
That led to the serpents in His sack, 
Who instantly, at the sound, leapt up 
On fire, and whirling with desire 
To enflame Him with Her command, 
To send Her song to the waters, to the waves
And to the seas, to turn the Wheel of the Age. 
And He could hold back no longer. 

With a vast groan of ecstasy 
Tinged only with the agony of waiting, 
He released Boann’s love potion, 
Like a colossal creamy fountain, 
Into the flowing, glistening milky way 
Of Her river below. 

Lyrics and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, January 2024 
Music by Paul Foss
© Paul Foss, January 2024
Contact: paul@paulfossmusic.com

Cover art: Carina Nebula, a collosal stellar entity spanning 460 light years and emitting some of the most stunning formations of gas and dust in the Milky Way.

The Dagda

The beak-faced, egg-breasted Bird Mother is the oldest known supernatural deity and she was worshipped in the oak groves of these isles long before any other more humanoid entities.

I wrote this after learning that frequency spectographic research found the dawn chorus builds, with its sound, what looks like cathedrals of light. (More here: https://anniedieuleveut.com/2021/01/14/the-cathedrals-of-light-sung-by-the-dawn-chorus/) 

I am very grateful to APi-ZZ (Andreas Pirner) for composing such enchanting music. You can find him here: https://soundcloud.com/api_zz

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, January 2024 

Music by APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner) 
© APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner), January 2024 

Cover Art: Detail from a stained glass window at Dornoch Cathedral in the Scottish Highlands, taken by John Haslam. 

Poem: 

All honour to the Crane bag of the Bird Mother, 
with its Ogham runes and snakes' eggs blue 
that birth the laws to protect the young, 
and those who will later come along 
to live under Her eye of the Moon. 
Our groves were grown for her Offertory 
and even now that they have become churches, 
her birds still intone sonic cathedrals of light 
to wind Saturn’s clock for each new day ... 
and will do for so long as the Earth is.

The murmuring Starlings keep vigil in the dark, 
sparkling in their bright constellations. 
A Long-Eared Owl hoots the Magnificat 
through the cloisters, to prepare the Mass 
for the sleep-dreaming congregations. 

An Eagle arrives at the lectern 
to conduct the Liturgy of Hours, 
its hawkwind-breath inspires and expires 
through the lead-slated roofs and copper spires, 
with prayers reaching up to Her flower-decked bower.
Then a Martin begins the morning Matins 
by swift-spiralling above to show 
we’re all part of the round robin rhyme 
of the tic-tocking Wheel of Time, 
here in our nests and bowers down below. 

At Lauds, a Lark ascends through tree-lined arches 
into the heavenly fan vaulting, 
a glorious Gloria trilling on its tongue, 
that the Sun will keep its promise 
that a new day will come, 
its joy unstinting and unhalting, 
As through the leaded panes of the old church Quire, 
skies are turning from blusher to butter, 
while songbirds in serried ranks, brightly arrayed, 
are chirping and whistling a dawn chorus of praise 
to Her Blessedness, the egg-breasted Bird Mother.

At Prime, a Peregrine Falcon flies to the tower, 
to squawk in the new Sun. 
Then a Torquoise Jay emerges at Terce 
to Gregorian chant the chapter and verse, 
now that the third hour after dawn has come. 

White Swans take flight from their lakes 
to lead the sublime symphony of Sext. 
They soar past choirs of stone-winged angels 
to ring the bells and the Summer Triangle, 
all down the nave and through the transepts. 

Next it’s the turn of a red-cloaked Cardinal.
He intones a psalm, accompanied by a bassoon. 
It is Nones, which marks the ninth hour since sunrise, 
and so we have now reached mid-afternoon. 

Long purple shadows are silently descending 
from the wings of a bald-headed Vulture 
flying in for Vespers at this juncture, 
So we know that the day She gave is now ending.

 Finally, at Compline, a black Crow arrives, 
the incense to light, and to recite the Agnus Dei.
He perches on the altar in full magisterium, 
to hoarsely croak out a sombre Requiem, 
“...aeternum dona eis, Domine.” 
to bring down the thick velvet curtain of night. 

And then a Robin sings the Last Rites. 

All this, in honour of the Crane bag of the Bird Mother, 
with its Ogham runes and snakes' eggs blue 
that birth the laws to protect the young, 
and those who will later come along 
to live under Her Eye of the Moon.

© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, January 2024

A Cathedral of Birds

My best selling book, The Sacred Sex Rites of Ishtar, will be published as an audiobook on Audible some time in 2025. This is a sample; the first chapter. If you'd like to read the full book, you can buy it here on Amazon here: https://shorturl.at/diLX5

Chapter One, The Sacred Sex Rites Of Ishtar - What's this book all about?

A celebration of the Ostara, aka the Spring Equinox, the first in a series of eight pieces to celebrate the eight Druidic festivals of the Windmill of the Year, more about which here: https://anniedieuleveut.com/2024/02/01/the-windmill-of-the-year/

By Annie Dieu-Le-Veut and APi_ZZ (@api_zz)


Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut.
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, February 2024 

Music and Cover Art by APi_ZZ 
© APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner) February 2024

Words:

Fire serpents and dragons are stirring 
Deep down in the hard, cold iron of Earth. 

Slithering land wights are waking, 
And wriggling and stretching, 
Woken from their sleep by the return 
Of the song of the Sun, 
Its melody singing all dreamers awake,
To light the cauldrons and fasts to break. 

Lady Slipper yawns and opens her petals 
To a bold west wind ruffling her labellum.
Thunderclouds above ominously threaten. 

An ash in full livery, its leaves right on time,  
Stands next to the winter-nude of an oak. 
So the old wives mutter in iambic rhyme,
“Ash before oak, we’re in for a soak.” 

Great Spotted Woodpecker drills Mars’s drum 
In a military tattoo, to marshall the bugs,
The soldier beetles and bark-gnawing weevils, 

Now Luna turns russet red in Earth’s umbra, 
A covenant of balmier days without number. 

Wyrm moon, Cold moon, Sap Moon
Pulling on the tides, rising 
And not just in the flooded rhynes, but 
Coursing up the loins of men too, 
Their reveries of love fine-tuned 
To Jack in the Green’s reciting 
To the tremolo thrill of Pan’s piping

Labyrinth Spider stands guard on the dell, 
While Salamanders ring the bluebells 
To peal out harsh winter’s fare-thee-well. 

Pixie-cup lichen arrives in the Vale, 
And elves riding turkeys with blue ruffled tails
Then ... Amanita Muscaria sings her aria, 
And Cuckoo tells us Spring is finally here.

Ostara

In Vedic myths, Lord Vishnu sings all the worlds into creation by the means of mantras. 

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, February 2024 

Music by Ryan Kenneth Ford
© Ryan Kenneth Ford, February 2024

Multiverse (music by Ryan Kenneth Ford)

A true story ...

By Annie Dieu-Le-Veut and APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner)

Words and vocals by © Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, February 2024 

I'm most grateful to Andreas for this perfect music for the subject. 

Music by © APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner) February 2024 
Find him here: (@api_zz)

Words: 

Long were they known to the Children of Don, 
These waters that run so deep, 
That pulse the heart blood of Avalon, 
And rocks the Beauty who still sleeps. 
Fand, her eye weeps, 
Drops drip, springs seep, 
In dark, underground caverns 
Fluting silvery waters, oh so sweet, 
That carry the salmon to Mabon.

Since ice floes swept these Isles of Honey,
This nectar of Nectan’s Glen, 
Dove’s ambrosia of Aphrodite, 
Or Brigit, as she was known then, 
Sung lullabies, into the night, 
Singing in the age of when 
The sun bird left Cinnamon Lane in flight, 
Soaring at behest of Gwyn. 

Avalon’s waters are sacred, you see, 
Destined for changes in ages. 
These rivers below don’t run to the seas, 
But move at the command of mages 
In the World Tree, sounding the key 
To unlock Earth’s life changes. 
It is by Macmannan of Llyr’s decree, 
Greatest of Celtic sages. 

But it was not his harp that dealt the knell 
Of doom on these sacred waters. 
This HAARP was an instrument of Hell 
Straight from the Den of Plotters. 
To steal the dells, Levels and fells, 
From their rightful owners. 
To bring in huge drills, to frack the wells, 
To rape Morrigan’s daughter. 

The Three Nefarious Blows to Britain 
Could not have done any worse. 
Of those fateful days, it is written, 
Avalon came under curse. 
The Furies rained, Taranis aimed 
Wheels to spin the sea purse, 
As storm waves crashed into pasture plains, 
And the farmers’ fields submersed. 

On the night of the full moon baleful airs 
Smashed the doors of the White Spring 
To pieces, shattered, well past repair, 
It was such a bitter sting. 
Stone dragon on stair, beyond prayer, 
Broken as they found him. 
But Brigit’s flame in her grotto still flared, 
The heart of the Isles of Honey. 


At Burrow Mump, useless handwringers all
 Were photographed for their voters. 
The Prince of Wales claimed he was appalled, 
While on the phone to his broker. 
Gone Chinese walls, the croupier calls 
This game of red hot poker. 
When climate change was blamed as the cause, 
The winner threw down the Joker. 

But all was not lost, despite shriek and beseech, 
The call rang across the leylines, 
Echoed by standing stones and cromlechs, 
“Send a bard who can spell with a rhyme.” 
Men of Harlech, now ithyphallic, 
Thundered down the rhynes , 
“Defend the glassy wall, Fragarach. 
“Lugh’s own Tongue Cannot Lie.” 

And so, this magical sword appeared
At the Avalon Council of Bards. 
To speak through the old Witch,  
“Rhyme it up!” it told the lady smith;
The purge to remove the bane. 
So she intoned the words to entrain, 
That tumbled out like a twin-twisted withe, 
Her tongue could no more contain...

"You wizards and lizards! You boastful bards! 
"By your own ignorance you’re paralysed. 
"The Beli serpent of these Honey Isles 
"Your mute mouths are unable to satirise, 
"Let alone the three fountains he guards."

Then she turned and raised her hands 
to the roiling skies. 

"I command the Three Fountains:
"The fountain of water of air
"The fountain of water of seas
"The fountain of water of earth/fire 
"Be still... and know thy peace.

"All glory to you, victorious Beli,
Who defends the Honey Isles."

The Waters Of Avalon

Vedic mantras use the same power that we see in cymatics in which we're able to observe how sound waves reorganise grains of sand on a metal tray. In the same way, these ancient Indian mantras enter through our ears and reorganise our brain waves and thus how we feel. 

This particular one, the Shanti mantra, is a peace mantra because when meditated upon, it brings wonderful feelings of wellbeing and so is perfect for de-stressing and encourages, in that way, our energy fields to realign, to attract good blessings and fortune. 

Don't worry about the meaning of the Sanskrit words I'm chanting. Just let them wash over you... along with APi_ZZ's gorgeously enchanting music. 

Vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, February 2024

Music and Cover Art by APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner)
© APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner) February 2024 
You can find him here: (@api_zz)

Words:
Om Sarveshaam Svastir-Bhavatu 
Sarveshaam Shaantir-Bhavatu 
Sarveshaam Purnam-Bhavatu 
Sarveshaam Mangalam-Bhavatu 
Om Shaanti Shaanti Shaanti 
Om Shaanti Shaanti Shaanti 
Om Shaanti Shaanti Shaanti 

Om Sarveshaam Svastir-Bhavatu 
Sarveshaam Shaantir-Bhavatu 
Sarveshaam Purnam-Bhavatu 
Sarveshaam Mangalam-Bhavatu 
Om Shaanti Shaanti Shaanti 
Om Shaanti Shaanti Shaanti 
Om Shaanti Shaanti Shaanti 

May there be Wellbeing in all,
May there be Peace in all,
May there be Fulfilment in all,
May there be Auspiciousness in all,
Om Peace, Peace, Peace.
Om Shaanti Shaanti Shaanti 
Om Peace, Peace, Peace.
Om Shaanti Shaanti Shaanti

Vedic Peace Mantra for meditation

This is a star story, a Celtic myth, that used to be acted out at carnivals, fairs and pageants up and down the country on May Day or Beltane. Nowadays, all that remains of it is the personage of the Queen of the May, and the maypole. So here we reconstitute this seasonal drama, which is about the Lord of Winter (Orion) having to give way to the Lord of Summer (Ophiuchus) so that summer can begin, at the setting of the Sisterhood of the Deer (the Seven Sisters of the Pleiades) when the Sun is in Taurus the Bull and the full Moon is in Scorpio.

I'm very grateful to APi_ZZ (@api_zz) for orchestrating so brilliantly all the twists and turns of this song, the second in a series of eight pieces to celebrate the eight Druidic festivals of the Windmill of the Year, more about which here: anniedieuleveut.com/2024/02/01/the-…ll-of-the-year/

By Annie Dieu-Le-Veut and APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner)

Words and vocals: Annie-Dieu-Le-Veut
Copyright © Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, February 2024 

Music and cover art: APi_ZZ 
Copyright © APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner) February 2024

Beltane (May Day)

A new take on the Devil! 

Lyrics and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, March 2024 

Music and Cover Art by APi_ZZ 
© APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner March 2024)
You can find him here: https://soundcloud.com/api_zz

Lyrics:

Please allow me to introduce myself 
I’m a woman of wealth and fame, 
And I’ve been around for a long enough time 
To see through the lies of this game. 
So I have to ask, have you ever thought, 
Why they say the Devil has all the best tunes? 
I have the answer; it’s all quite simple, 
though you may find my words uncool,

The Devil is the greatest Muse, 
And not the epitome of evil at all.
So listen now and let me show you
How the writing's on the wall.

It's true that his names are legion. 
The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, 
Pan, Gwyn ap Nudd, 
Cernunnos, Kokopelli, 
Krishna and Vishnu, 
The creator of this simulation
Coded from his fluting song.

So that's why I say the Devil
is the greatest Muse, 
And not Mephistophelean at all.
And if you're still with me, 
I'll tell you more about the writing on the wall.

The Chief Muse must have the best tunes, 
It stands to reason, wouldn’t you say? 
And taking his great name in vain... 
That’s all fine, he really doesn't mind, 
His kind mercy knows no sway ... 
Even when his music is hijacked
By the corpulent Tin Pan Alley cats
That much he expects.... with no hit to his self respect
As the Horned One is hugely magnaminous
On the weaknesses of the human condition.

There's only one that he must find a bit harsh,
It's when he hears his music misused 
Wafting up from the carved wooden pews, 
Onward Christian soldiers ... against him!
Then his patience must be stretched so thin.
The irony is off the charts,
When the cathedral choir asks, 
In perfect, harmonic accord
To be saved from their true patron,
The source of all that is good. 

For, like I told you ...
The Horned One is the greatest Muse, 
And not the last word in wickedness at all. 
The devil in the detail of my rhythm 'n blues
Has nothing to do with angels that fall

That's why my sympathies lay with the Devil
And I hope that the day never dawns, 
When all his enchanting fluting and piping
Comes to an end ...but if it does, 
Don't say you were never warned.

Sympathy For The Devil

My best selling book, The Sacred Sex Rites of Ishtar, will be published as an audiobook on Audible some time in 2025. This is a sample; the second chapter which is a simple guide to the basics of alchemy.

The first chapter is here: https://soundcloud.com/annie-dieu-le-veut/chapter-1-of-the-sacred-sex-rites-of-ishtar

If you'd like to read the paperback book, or get it for you Kindle, you can buy it here on Amazon here: shorturl.at/diLX5

Chapter Two, The Sacred Sex Rites Of Ishtar, The Basics of Alchemy

Our song for Litha, aka the Summer Solstice, celebrates Bridie, the overlighting Divine Feminine spirit of the land of Avalon. She is also the bride of the Lord of Summer, who we first introduced in our song Beltane (hear that here: https://soundcloud.com/annie-dieu-le-veut/beltane) 

The word “Solstice” means "Sun stands still” in Latin, as it appears to do, for three days, at both the Summer and Winter Solstices. At the Summer Solstice, around the 21st of June in the northern hemisphere, the North Pole is turned the most towards the sun, providing us here with the longest day of sunshine of the year. 

Lyrics and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, March 2024 

Music and Cover Art by APi_ZZ
© APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner) March 2024 
You can visit APi_ZZ here. https://soundcloud.com/api_zz

WORDS
How grace You fair the Summerlands, 
when the Windmill slows to Your command. 
The tumbling tendrils of Your goldenrod hair, 
your perfumed breath through June's dawn air, 
and skies tinged with roses of Your cheeks pink, 
like apples honeying for ambered drink, 
while fragrant meadows sing with your springs...
and young cranes soar overhead with Your wings. 

These long, lilting Avalon days are Your behest 
To the Undeserving and alike, the Blessed. 
Even Chronos gives way to Your valse musette, 
and slows Time for your gentle, satined step,
where winter’s grief is swept away by Your mercy, 
and fairies dance through swaying sunflower leas
to your cooing, throbbing in the breasts of doves
making love, at this season, among the foxgloves. 

Your night-scented stocks open in pleasure 
like a choir, to Your starry vault of treasures. 
The evening blooms along the lanes and ridings, 
with aromas so pungent and dusky and enticing, 
reminding us of ancient ages, that Time forgot... 
of gentler, slower days and deeper thoughts, 
when a man’s dreams were valued more than gold, 
and a real song could birth new worlds from old. 

This is Avalon, raw earth of potter’s clay, 
where Bridie sleeps and dreams Her worlds into play.

Litha

My best selling book, The Sacred Sex Rites of Ishtar, will be published as an audiobook on Audible some time in 2025. This is a sample - the third chapter which describes how and why the path to true love never runs smooth... because it's not meant to! 

If you'd like to read my book in paperback, or get it for you Kindle, you can buy it here on Amazon here: shorturl.at/diLX5

Chapter Three, The Sacred Sex Rites of Ishtar, Alchemy in the Fire of Relationships

The first verse is all that remains to us of the oldest song in the world, written almost 2,000 years ago. Its words were inscribed on the tombstone of a Turkish woman by her husband Seikolos. 

While you live, shine 
have no grief at all  
life exists only for a short while 
and Time demands an end.

Here, I’ve composed my own version ... and I hope Seikolos would have approved! 

Lyrics and vocal Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, April 2024
© Copyright, all rights reserved, Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, April 2024

Music composed by Paul Foss
Contact email: paul@paulfossmusic.com
© Copyright, all rights reserved, Paul Foss, April 2024

Words: 

1.    While you live, shine! Have no grief at all.  Life exists only for a short while and the Reaper will soon demand his due.

 2.     While you thrive, don’t just survive. All the world’s a stage just waiting for you to realise that it’s time to play your part, under the spotlights of the stars. 

3.    While you breathe, believe in your true self and your sovereign right to liberty, guided by your own heart’s dreams and your inner knowingness.
 
4.     While you exist, insist on following your intuition - your inner tuition. It's in your gut. Those feelings are your tutors who will never lead you wrong. 

5.     While you stay, play! Meet your dragons with a smile. See that life is just a game and what’s more.... the ball is in your court, so what are you waiting for?

6. Use your power to flower. Your heart is a young bud, just waiting to bloom and ripen into your first fruits to take to your harvest home. 

7.    Then when you die, fly high ...through that final portal, giving thanks for all you’ve seen and dreamed into being, on Earth, as a mortal.

 8.    But ...while you live, shine. Life exists only for a flash in the eye, like a shooting star across the sky...and the Reaper will soon enough be along with his scythe.   

© Copyright, all rights reserved, Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, April 2024

While You Live, Shine!

This song was inspired by the 13th century poem about the abduction to Elfland by the Fairy Queen of Thomas the Rhymer. Thomas was a real person, also known as Thomas Lermount, a Scottish laird whose supernatural powers were said to rival those of Merlin. He was called True Thomas because he was said to have received the fairy boon of the Tongue That Can Never Lie. 

Whether or not Thomas actually was abducted by the Queen of Elfland,  I’ll leave up to you and your imagination! 

I’m very grateful to APi_ZZ for providing such a beautifully evocative soundscape for our fairy ride from Dreamland to Elfland! You can find here: https://soundcloud.com/api_zz

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, April 2024

Music by APi_ZZ 
© APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner , April 2024)

Words: 

True Thomas was lying on a grassy bank, when a marvel with his eye spied he...
There he saw a lady bright come riding by the hawthorn tree.
Her skirt was of the grass-green silk, her mantle of the velvet fine, 
And at each lock of her horse’s mane hung fifty silver bells and nine. 

True Thomas, he pulled off his cap and bowed down to his knee: 
“All hail, thou Queen of Heaven! For thy peer on Earth I never did see.”
 “O no, O no, Thomas,” she chuckled, “That name does not belong to me; 
"I am but the Queen of fair Elfland that am hither come to visit thee.
“Sing and play, Thomas,” she said, “Sing and play along with me, 
And if you dare to kiss my lips, then certain of your body I will be.” 
“Betide me weal, betide me woe," replied he, "That fate shall never frighten me.”
And then he kissed her rosy lips, all under the hawthorn tree.

“Now you must come with me,” she said, “True Thomas, you must come with me, 
And you must serve me seven years, through weal and woe, as chance may be.”
 Then she mounted on her milk-white steed,  and she took True Thomas up behind.
And every time her bridle rang, the steed flew faster than the wind.

On they rode, on, and farther on, the white horse swifter than lightening,
Until they reached a desert wide, and living land was well behind them.
 “Lie down, lie down now, True Thomas," she said.
And rest your head upon my knee; 
Abide and rest a little space, And I will show you wonders three.” 

“So do you see that narrow road, so thick beset with thorns and briars? 
That is the path of righteousness, though after it but few enquire.” 
“And see ye not that broad, wide way that lies across the lily leven? 
That is the path of wickedness, although some call it the road to heaven.” 
“And see ye not that lovely lane that winds about the fern’d hillside? 
That is the road to fair Elfland, where you and I this night must ride.
“But Thomas, you must hold your tongue, whatever you may hear or see, 
For if you speak in fair Elfland, you’ll never get back to your own country.”

So on they rode.... and on.... and farther on, 
And they waded through rivers above the knee, 
And they saw neither sun nor moon, 
But they heard the roaring of the seas.
 It was dark dark night, and there was no sun light, 
And they waded through red blood to the knee; 
For all the blood that’s shed on Earth runs through the springs of that country.

Soon they came to a garden green, and she pulled an apple from a branch on high,
“Take this for thy wages, True Thomas, it will give you the tongue that can never lie.”
"My tongue is my own,” True Thomas said, 
“A goodly boon that you gifted me! 
I’d neither buy nor sell it, at fair nor tryst where'ere I may be.
“I dare neither speak to prince nor lord, nor ask favor from fair lady. “ 
“Now hold thy peace,” the Lady said, “For as I say, so must it be!”

So now True Thomas has a coat of elven cloth, 
And a pair of shoes of elven green, 
And till seven years are gone and past 
True Thomas on Earth will never be seen.

True Thomas and the Queen of Elfland

Even today, modern politicians are educated by what's been dubbed a "manual of statecraft", penned by the so-called Father of Modern Political Philosophy and Political Science, the 16th century Venetian, Niccolò Machiavelli. 

In Machiavelli's book, The Prince, they are taught that no matter how evil the means that they employ are, to achieve victory, the ends will justify those means. Then as the victors, all they have to do is to rewrite the history, to present themselves as the good guys. 

I'm very grateful to Mark Combstead for providing such great rock music for this poem. You can find him here: https://soundcloud.com/markcombs-928282858

Words:

Last night, I dreamed of Machiavelli,
 Who, it seems, hasn’t learned much since the days of the Medici. 
 His pretext of seizing power for the ‘good of God’,
 Was straight out of the playbook of Cesar Borgia....
 So it seemed from my talk with poor, deluded Niccolo.
 
 Looking into my eyes and holding my hands
 He plied me with cunning plots and plans,
 Dripping in evil criminality, and base intent
 To create chaos for the existing world order
 No means was too foul, not even murder.
 
 The end will justify the means, my dear,
 Don’t worry your pretty head. 
 He said. 
 I wasn’t buying it, though, 
And so I said:	
 
 All around us in the world today that we see,
 Has been caused by those with such a strategy.
 The end doesn’t justify the means, at all.
 It is the means themselves which create the evil
 Of famine, pollution and perpetual war,
 Driven by madness, greed and holy preachings;
 This is the end created by your teachings. 
 We now have nation pitted against nation,
 Because the way, the means, IS the destination.
 

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, April 2024 

Music by Combstead
© Mark Combstead, April 2024 

Cover Art by by pizarro2021 at DeviantArt.

Machiavelli (ft. Combstead)

The spirit of my drum "asked me" to heal the pain of betrayal in all those who wished to attune to it, and so I used my breath and intention while drumming between 4 and 7 beats per second, the rhythm most conducive for going into shamanic trance.

Andreas (APi_ZZ) found that the resonance of my drumming was of the frequency 109 Hz, close to the 108 Hz which is the sound tuning used to heal the sacral chakra, the Svadhishthana. So he fine tuned the drumming frequencies to that exact 108 Hz. 

The sacral chakra governs the reproductive region and when it has been knocked out of balance, it can block our fertility in all aspects of our lives, such as our joy and enthusiasm that gives rise to our creativity. And so I added in the Adi Shakti mantra, the prayer to the Great Mother, who is associated with the Svadhishthana. The Adi Shakti mantra tunes us into Her and into Her mantle of protective, generating energy that gently dissolves our fear blocks. 

Andreas then put the whole thing to music, using flute and Tibetan sound bowls attuned to the frequency of 432 Hz. He also added a bowl drone sound (again at 432 Hz), augmented by bells chiming in deeply associated frequencies of  (again) 108 Hz, 162 Hz, and 243 Hz and a second bowl at 364.5 Hz. These frequencies relate to the sacral, solar, heart and throat chakras.

The whole track has been carefully developed to enrich (self) healing ideas and offers a deep listening experience as well. 

The Cover Art, by APi_ZZ, incorporates the Svadhishthana yantra, the visual, symbolic interpretation of the Svadhishthana mantra.

Drumming and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
Copyright © Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, April 2024, all rights reserved

Music by APi_ZZ
Copyright © APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner) April 2024, all rights reserved
You can find APi_ZZ here: https://soundcloud.com/api_zz

Svadhishthana - shamanic healing for betrayal

Poet, author and podcaster on metaphysics, alchemy and shamanism. I write and recite my own mystical poems, and I'm lucky enough to have met a few fellow travellers on here who help me bring those poems to life with their inspired musical creations. So if you'd like a collab, do message me.

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