Author: jsmorgane

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Winter is coming

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Within the farthest reach of Summer,
Stone still warm from midday slumber,
The Land inhales the last
Of the great Sun’s past heat
And holds Her breath before
She gives in and admits defeat.

With the turning of a leaf autumn is here,
Heavy with fruit and offering to freely give
The harvest of the year.
And all withdraw into the mellow mists,
Into their homes, to the beginning,
Below the earth, to sleep, to rest.

I, too, sink slowly down, thoughts turned inwards,
Tending to my dreams, tending the small flame
Against a deeper darkness, greater silence.
And I wait – for in this stillness I can feel
Winter is coming.

© jsmorgane (Nov 2011)

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Corn King’s Song

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Corn King, come and dance
Over fields and meadows and heaths.
Beckon to Sun and call on yourself,
Crowned with the harvest
And sacred to Earth.

Lead us in the eternal circle
To honour Our Mother
Who gives and receives.
With steady step through golden autumn
Set yourself free.

Turn one last time
And sing us your song,
Echoing far through open fields,
Before your steps turn to Our Mother
And your light to darkness yields.

© jsmorgane

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Embraced

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I thought I heard you stretch
On the lawn beside me,
I heard your wide skirts rustle
In the trees above.

I thought I heard you mutter
In your midday slumber,
When I found it was
The crash of distant waves.

I thought you woke and straightened,
The shadowy branches reaching,
I thought you smiled to tickle
The sunbeams through the leaves.

I meant to bend and kiss
Your reassuring laughter
Already with the butterflies
Tumbling away.

© jsmorgane