CELEBRATING HARVEST TIME



Here we are celebrating harvest time,

a once a year event so important to everyone

of us, man and best alike. We light a candle,

burn some incense and drink some wine

in an offering to the gods at this sacred time of year.

You can feel the magical power all around you

coming from within and from the universe both at once.

We eat some bread and bite into an apple

celebrating the coming of autumn

with the leaves soon to turn red,

ochre and gold covering the land with colour.

We say our magic rites and we join nature

in the turn of the seasons.

As our celebration comes to a close

we feel the joy of harvest time.

When the moon rises and the sun gives way,
The shadows creep forth as She enters the fray.
The strike of her spear will end your day;
The Morrighan's ravens will take you away.

She who darkens the battlefield skies;
She who listens to the soldiers' cries.
She flies over the fields on black wings,
Vigilant of those ready to hear how Death sings.

But She is protective and nurturing, should She choose,
Just as easily as She decides who will win or lose.
Glory and defeat, life and death,
She is The Morrighan, praise under your breath.

When the moon rises and the sun gives way,
The shadows creep forth as She enters the fray.
The strike of her spear will end your day;
The Morrighan's ravens will take you away.

BELTANE SONG

Here is the coming of summer when the sun shines on the land and the oak tree gives forth his new green leaves

The deer run through the forest people dance to the pipe and drum all celebrate the kiss of summer who banishes winter gone

We are all one with nature as the Gods and Goddesses are with the planet that is coming into bloom with the scent of hawthorn and elder

For Mother Nature has smiled on the land in this the time of Beltane a time of new birth and happiness and a time of love and healing

So my sweet darling, say it.
Call me poison, just once more
And inject your sickly bitter honey drips
Into the butter softness that will stop your breath

For a while

And here I am, chasing my dragon again
A martyr, at the hands of a God
Or is it the other way around?
For you couldn’t even look at my face

That last time

Yet I couldn’t say goodbye
And I think you knew
I’d be back, waiting for a clenched fist at my throat
Craving to feel, nothing and everything

Once again.

Waiting for the word, the question.

‘Mademoiselle?’


“Religion is the ***** of the people”
- Karl Marx

The night is soft and billowy,
Beckoning me deeper into her velvet embrace.  
The dark air caresses me,
Like a smooth, silken hand stroking my face.

The breeze carries with it the scent of autumn;
decaying leaves, campfire smoke, pumpkin spice and pine needles.
A heady cocktail that rouses something in me that no other season can.

This, is my favourite time of year.

The bare trees, colourful leaves and crisp breeze soothe my mind.

The long nights of candlelight and incense soothe my soul.

Draped in moonlight and watched over by the stars,
I drink the wine of ancient Roman nights,
of sacred pagan rites,
of owls' sleepless flights,
of lustful lovers' bites,
That dark and warm midwinter wine.

And it is here

As I lie naked beneath the gentle gaze of the moon,
Vulnerable and exposed,
Innocent and joyful,
With child-like wonder at the beauty that surrounds and encompasses me,
Sipping the crimson nectar of the gods,

That I feel whole.

its almost that time
again
packing up my bags and changing the pace that life has
naturally chosen just
for me
i do not move with the wind
instead i create it
and hope that another soul
will someday
feel it