SAMHAIN 

Harvest's end we joyous proclaim,
our lays great vales pervade,
the Gods and Nature reverence,
'pon drowsing ground cascade.

Cattle we lead from pastures bare
into their Autumn folds,
as proud elms gilded fragments cast
'pon frosted, misty wolds.

Thresh-ed grain stowed, our herds we cull,
for now the freeze descends;
"Bless these who die, that we may thrive
till hiemal season ends."

On Winter's hinge, late in the year,
this time of spells and dread,
demons, faeries and souls long gone
shall 'mong the living tread.

Time this bless-ed day still shall be
when past and present meet,
for veils betwixt the twain shall thin,
as forbears their kin greet.

Samhain Eve by fir's we gather,
for darkness to dispel;
candle lanterns at windows set
evil spirits repel.

From Summer dwellings as they rove
to barrows o'er the leas,
with feasts of cream and berries plump
the Aos Si we appease.

Masks we don and guises ghastly,
for spectres to confound,
sigils sacred 'pon holy sidhes
in the late gloam surround.

Blooms we lay, soul cake aplenty,
oblations manifold,
devotions chant for seeds new sown
in hopes they may yield gold.

Of silent suppers we partake
'mong our departed dears,
one gaze 'pon absent forms would bring
misfortune o'er the years.

Tales in fond remembrance we tell
of our ancestors brave,
for this blessing of life give thanks
to kinsmen in the grave.

Flames we tote 'round homestead
and farm
'neath silver studded dome,
due west a burning light we place,
for to guide the dead home.

© 2014 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

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