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
What are you making?
Writing, art, music, something else? Share it with your fellow Pagans!