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patricia-waldronPoems
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.
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Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
FALL
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.
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patricia-waldron
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
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