To Summer

To Summer   So fresh and green, the rolling hills, Exulting ‘neath the daystar’s heat; Growing wild as Nature wills The peas and apples, the golden wheat. All the creatures born in Spring Explore the reaches of their domain On hoof and paw, with scale and wing In rich warm sun and flowing rain. And

Owning “Stuff”

Stuff A Compilation Article from Maine Pagan Digest [Ed note: The opinions expressed here are from many different people, so the subjective “I” is not specific to one person. Good luck!] The Holidays are behind us, to which many of us breathe a sigh of relief… until the credit card bills come in. Did you

Brighid

Imbolc lays before us deep As all the world lies still, asleep. And in this time of seeming death, We’re livened by Midwinter’s breath. The celebration of this time Is done with stories, song and rhyme. Here in Winter’s deepest cold We find you, Brighid, kind and bold.   With joy, the bride doll now