The fire hissed and crackled
It leaped up toward the sky
The forest was dark around us
As we raised our voices high;

Flames brought warmth and comfort
And light by which to see
As we cast our circle
To invoke our Deities;

Look into the flames and embers
Feel the passion and will and strength
See protection and action and courage
Know the joy of success at length;

Fire is a two-edged sword
Having not always been used for good
Watch the ignorant, frightened people
As they gather the innocent wood;

Flames raged on the hillsides
With agony, terror and fear
Fire, a symbol of the burning time
Not looked on then so dear.

Harvest fires are burning
Upon the verdant hills
Pagans gather in Circles
Summoning their wills.

Leaves colored gaily
Spiral to the ground
Create a colorful carpet
As the Wheel turns round.

Smoke rises thickly
Drifts among the trees
Moon sails over head
Pleased by what she sees.

   Sprigs of oak and holly
Sheaves of corn and wheat
Signify abundance
Gathering time complete.

Hunting Lord is stalking
Deep wood, field, stream
Game harvest approaches
Stag are on the scene.

Departed pay a visit
Weaving plane to plane
Reminding that we, too
Will return again and again.

Do you revel in the smell of the Earth as the seasons change?
And ice patterns that form on windows in winter?
Do you like holidays and Sundays and Fridays?
Do you like to have your face touched?
And your eyelids kissed?
And the tip of your nose?
Do you like to lie on your back in a field of wildflowers?
And watch clouds move across the sky?
Do you love storms?
Can you feel their power?
Do you like soft, gray days?
And bright sunlit ones?
And walking in a summer rain?
And fireflies?
And butterflies?
Do you like to receive brown paper packages ******* with string?
And having your ear lobes nibbled?
Do you like to cook over a campfire?
Then sit nearby and watch the flames?
And sleep under the stars?
Do you like stones and herbs?
Do you drink coffee?
Do you put too much salt on your food?
Would you allow me to watch you shave?
Do you sometimes like wine with dinner?
And eating by candlelight?
Do you keep a glass of water on your bedside table at night?
Are your keys on your keyring in order by size?
And do the teeth all face the same way?
Do you put the cap back on the toothpaste?
Do you like rainbows?
And waterfalls?
Do you have to touch moss?
And dandelions gone to seed?
Would you like to chase me?
Do you like to hold hands?
And the touch of a hand reaching for you in the night?
Do you like to fly kites in spring winds?
Against a bright blue sky?
In a field of dandelions?
Do you feel a special joy in things that grow without your intervention?
Like wild strawberries and thistles?
Do you like the spongy give of pine needles on the forest floor?
Do you like the salt taste on your lips from the ocean?
Would you like it on mine?
Do you like the sound of a boat gently rubbing against a dock in the dark?
And the sound of tree branches rubbing against each other in the wind?
Do you like stone steps?
And covered bridges?
And walking through soft, thick fog?
Do you get 'high' on sunshine?
And making love?
Do you like to have someone tag along behind as you putter about?
To provide you with an extra hand?
And make you laugh?
Do you feel awe when you look at a mountain?
And a valley? And trees? And water? And every living thing?
Do you believe in God's Magic?

All day I held the memory of you
A soft, gentle holding
A feeling of being in harmony with you
A joy in knowing you are there
Even when the world is dark and dreary
The magic of you makes things bright.

I have need of more time with you
So much I want to learn while you are mine
While we are sharing this gift of togetherness
Much of your experience you can bring to me
And there are parts of my world
You have yet to see,

I am emotional, passionate, obsessed
Borne from peak to peak
Repeatedly plunged into
one abyss after another
My pendulum always in motion
I have need of peace and security
and you.

There is something dark
and forbidding within me
A despondency that lessens
the life force of me
Hopelessness I don't
want to live with
It is not conquered yet
But returns to me again
and again
Causing within me pain
confusion and doubt
It is my own personal demon
Its exorcism possible only by me.

The Air moves by with a rush and a sigh
A brisk or a gentle blowing
It travels unfettered, wild and free
Raising restless ripples with its going.

The breeze goes gamboling
Along the mountain trails
It moves the branches of trees about
As it moans and sings and wails.

A cooling north wind scatters clouds
Tosses colorful leaves about
It crisps the days of autumn
And turns hardy people out.

Pitiless winds of winter
Shriek across the frozen land
A time for inner reflection
Turning to others with a gentle hand.

Warming winds awaken the Earth
Sending the cold of winter on its way
It stirs the life in growing things
And freshens a summer day.

I ground and center my body
To generate harmony.

I close the Circle around me
Drawing the things I need.

The candles gently flicker
Stirred by a random breeze.

Multitudes of thoughts are stilled
Granting my Spirit comfort and ease.

An aura of understanding
My minds enlightened expression.

Then loving emotions celebrate
The renewal of pride and passion.

Time to Earth the Power
To return to the world mundane.

Continuing to weave a tapestry
Till the Magic of the Circle again.

If I could live in a forest
And sleep beneath my Trees
I'd cast a circle 'round us
So happy would I be.

I'd sing and dance and celebrate
And worship the Moon and Sun
I'd gather wild creatures 'round me
And watch their antics for fun.

I'd welcome the changing seasons
And keep each Festival well
I'd honour the Gods and Goddess'
And through time and space weave my spell.

I ground and center
Trace boundaries
Invoke the powers of the Spirits
Sprinkle water and salt
Wave incense and burning branch
Salute Sky and Earth
Touch athame to cauldron and candles
The Circle is cast
The Fire is lit
The Ritual is begun.

a dusty tree lined country road
  its shoulders strewn with violets
  leads to an overgrown yard
  surrounded with lilac bushes.

  weight of many winter snows
  has crushed the old house roof
  toppled the stone chimney                                                          ­                     
  and rusted the locks.

  huge rooms seem even more so
  in their emptiness
  ghostly shapes of frames and shelves
  look etched upon the walls.

  footsteps echo through the house
  generations of voices are silent
  prickly berry bushes cascade among
  sunken cellar walls forming a hedge.

  there is no one to **** out
  nettles or sweep dried leaves
  from the rickety porch
  No one to open sagging shutters.
.
  window frames are cracked
  dusty glass shards have fallen
  into the brittle litter of
  wilted flowers and spent stems.

  as evening fades dust grows cold
  stream water glints through branches
  and night winds toss shingles about
  creaky wicker arm chairs wait.

  soundlessly a cat steps out of the grass
  sleek and lithe with gleaming green eyes
  he blends smoothly back into the dark
  after leaving a mouse on the stoop.

we spend our last few years
      much as we spent our first few                                                              ­    
                                                                ­          
trying to get someone to pay attention to us
        wishing we could eat grownup food
                   hoping for better toys


           And waiting for Mom and Dad
                 to come and get us
                    and take us home.

It is dark,, past the royal blue of evening
                              into the velvet black of night
                I walk across a vacant lot where bits of
                    Broken bottles glitter like fine gems
               so much shattered glass, scattered islands of weeds,
                            trash blowing here and there
                        this isn’t a friendly or a safe place
                     as I move along I think of violence that
                             has occurred here where I am
                 waiting now just below the quiet surface?
                          but this is part of my way home
                                   what am I doing here?
                     so far from the woods where I grew up
                       such a distance from my safe world,                        
                     I am not afraid, I don’t look behind me
                                   what happens, happens      
                                               here I am.

The green Earth sends her incense up
To greet the breaking day
From valleys and meadows
Comes the fragrance of new mown hay.

The morning mist rises lazily
Above the streams and ponds
Fragile tendrils of moisture
Gathering in wispy fronds.

The birds are chirping mightily
Heralding the dawn
There's a gentle stirring rustle
Morning movements of a fawn.

My horse and I enter the forest
While the dew is still on the leaves
She lowers her head to the water
Where she stands up to her knees.

Small creatures scurry before us
Indignant at being disturbed
By a big-footed man-smelling stranger
Intruding into their world.

The water chuckles and frolics
Finding its way over the rocks
It gurgles around boulders
And swirls and tumbles and drops.

The banks of the streams are strewn
With flower petals, pink and rosy
They settle gently on fern fronds
Looking peaceful, comfy and cozy.

The steep sides of the gully are shale
And water seeps out in places
It finds its way into pools
Where the minnows are having races.

I know about oceans and lakes and rivers
About power dams and high waterfalls
I appreciate the importance of water
I love it from wherever it calls.

But my private stream in this gulley
Teeming, insected', berried and mossed
Seems akin to a forest primeval
Where the Hand of the Goddess just passed.

I do so enjoy the fury of a storm
The relentless driving rain
Descending in sheets
Being blown into every
Crack and crevice
By a howling raging wind
Whipping first one way then another
Bending everything in its path to its will
I feel envy, too
How much I would like to
Release my pent up feelings
What a storm I could often create.