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

Samhain

  Today is Blessed Samhain, And harvest-time is done. The leaves and fruits have fallen; Less warmly shines the sun. The days are crisp and windy, The nighttime brisk and clear. Full bellies and full larders – We slumber without fear.   We light the sacred fires To celebrate this time And drum the Earth’s

Samhain

  The season of death and of endings is here And with it comes doubtfulness, worries and fear. But trust in the Lady and trust in the Lord As we all move toward Samhain with a single accord. The pumpkins we carved, now all glowing and orange, The grand, creepy sound of an old creaking

The Reaper

  Autumn has come in all of its glory; The evening shadows grow deeper. Bounty is won, and low sinks the sun As everything waits for the Reaper.   Turkey and pheasant and duck on the wing Never know when Archer’s arrows will sing. Deer in the field stand ready to run, Waiting the sound