David Bilsborrow and Cheryl Bilsborrow

Saturday, 31 October 2009

Poem of the week


On the barren misty hill i see your naked slender frame
dancing round the raging flame

Ancient lore repeats its tale as banshee virgins tell and wail of lightened days beginning to fail

Into dark times this feast will lead
to fallen leaves of bygone years nourishing the ground
on which you feed

This Gaelic Samhain November dawn is where i see you dressed to warn
of shortened days and little growth

In future days the chilling north winds will hide the land
in whitened snow
but through its melting a new spring life will begin to grow

So on this night cry out in joy as cleansing is complete

life now stirs another day
beneath your Goddess feet

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