Oct 2017
.
A shepherd gently tends his flocks,
on the night of the Autumn equinox.
Patiently guarding his wayward sheep,
as the Oak King prepares for sleep.
And the Holly King from slumber wakes,
with solemnity his tired head he shakes.
Then joyous laughter he openly roars,
his half year reign once more restored.
Guiding all Nature to a bed of rest,
to energise, regrow, is his duty quest.
Bringing his peace and tranquility serene,
for the comfort of his bridal Queen.
For She is Nature, there all year long,
loved and celebrated in many a song.
No greater love could She invoke,
her two wild husbands, Holly and Oak.
So Oak pens his warm Summer verse,
and Holly writes of cold Winters' worst.
Her heart draped upon their royal thrones,
bringing joy to this eternal Game of Poems.
© Pagan Paul (03/10/17)
A shepherd gently tends his flocks,
on the night of the Autumn equinox.
Patiently guarding his wayward sheep,
as the Oak King prepares for sleep.
And the Holly King from slumber wakes,
with solemnity his tired head he shakes.
Then joyous laughter he openly roars,
his half year reign once more restored.
Guiding all Nature to a bed of rest,
to energise, regrow, is his duty quest.
Bringing his peace and tranquility serene,
for the comfort of his bridal Queen.
For She is Nature, there all year long,
loved and celebrated in many a song.
No greater love could She invoke,
her two wild husbands, Holly and Oak.
So Oak pens his warm Summer verse,
and Holly writes of cold Winters' worst.
Her heart draped upon their royal thrones,
bringing joy to this eternal Game of Poems.
© Pagan Paul (03/10/17)
.
