Hail Lupercal!
O hail the Wolf,
In all Her many guise!
The Tearing One,
Who fills the dark,
The Mother of everything!

Hail Lupercal!
O hail the Wolf,
Hail the Wild One!
Hail Her Get,
Hail Her Twins,
The Dancers of the Dark!

Hail Lupercal!
O hail the Wolf,
Hail the Hooded Three!
Hail fair Spinner,
Hail sly Weaver,
Hail the dreaded Cutter now!

Hail Lupercal!
O hail the Wolf,
And hail the Keeper Four,
White Fame and Red,
Green Flame and Blue,
Hail the mighty blowing Winds!

Hail Lupercal!
Oh hail the Wolf,
Hail the Goat and Wolf in one!
Lupercalia,
The feast each year,
An offering to God Herself!

~Hail Lupercal! a poem of Lupercalia by Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis, February 18, 2017

The mists that part,
  By Bride's Day light,
Are mists between the worlds,
They open wide,
  The gates of night,
And allow things to pass both ways,
What died before,
  Comes forth once more,
The serpent's wings are spread,
On Hallow's Eve,
  That sacrifice,
Begins the year again,
Forth from the well,
  Between the worlds,
Scaled form returns once more,
A new year dawns,
  In dark moon light,
And all begins once more,
Upon her forge,
  New year is wrought,
By hammer and by flame,
The raven's call,
  The hope of all,
As she forges the year again,
Now the births,
  In springtime snows,
In cold and solemn moons,
Keeper of Ways,
  Builder of Paths,
Takes now the regency,
Misrule is done,
  That tide is turned,
Bride's Time has come again,
The Trouble Moon,
  It parts and passes,
The Lost Moon begins again.
And awakened now,
  The serpent old,
Begins a journey home,
As they open wide,
  The gates of night,
And allow things to pass both ways,
For the mists that part,
  By Bride's Day light,
Are mists between the worlds.
~Mists Between the Worlds, a Candlemas poem by Lorekeeper, February 3, 2017

I stand beneath the starstrone sky,
In the darkness of the night,
A lonely hill, grey in the dark,
A darkness you can feel.

The stars the spin, they move around,
Before my wondering eyes,
Stars not fixed but thought to be,
Stars like dancing fire flies.

And spin they do, but all return,
To their course across the sky,
These pin ****** move yet stay quite still,
In the darkness of the night.

No wonder all the ancient times,
Spirits and gods they were,
Always present, always watching,
But never holding still.

Ancient secrets painted plain,
Above for all to see,
Yet few do see and less do know,
The secrets painted there.

The singing song, the lonely dance,
Of the stars in darkest night,
The tales they know, the things they’ve seen,
And no one knows it all.

Here I stand, they dance around,
I see the sacred plan,
The whirling castle, the Well of Stars,
And all that is drawn to them.

I stand beneath the starstrone sky,
In the darkness of the night,
A lonely hill, grey in the dark,
A darkness you can feel.

~Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis, September 25, 2014