Magpies & Maypoles

Asters mourn Ostara by summer's Tailteann games 

coveted in a Lithan meadow since the last burning ov Beltane. 

Begonias wilt with glee by sun, as blackened grain lay charred and dead, 

a limbering torch alights the sky by the scorn ov the evening red. 

Lughnasadh blessed our wheat and rye 

plucked sheaves for wreathing bend, 

greeting Samhain as Mabon leaves so the last harvest may feed our kin. 

Oft old crones gather 'round, 

near the summit to ascend. 

Offering fruits for Ceres' rule 

while hoping Yule soil will then yield again. 

Since the cutting weaved the painting, 

Corn Children sleep amongst the seeds, 

'til the ploughing of an Imbolc frost, uproots the first ov spring.