A Melody Stirs!
There’s a cotton clump of crowning white – hovering low above the hills,
Hugging at the contours a mist of cloud – before the breeze picks up the chills!
The grey fills the view to where horizons fade – beyond the semi naked trees,
In a shower of leaves there’s a moistened path – in reflective pools that no-one sees!
Arrival coincides with the female Pheasants – with their subtle shade of pale,
Preparing their tunnels in the Autumn grasses – for a sheltered winter’s tale!
The elements get fresh with the midst of mid-morning – as we sit to break our fast,
Sparing a thought in the calm of remembrance – we wander through the past!
A Barn Owl chases the moment across the rise – in a second for a glance,
Late in its day for the field in the south-east – where the hay once took its chance!
Coming to rest in the boughs of the hedge – where it settles out of sight,
Further along from where the Kestrels gather – when the summer shines so bright!
The mist comes and goes with damp at your toes – dressing the gateway with Yew,
With a watchful brief – comparing shades of greys – as the clouds they pass on through!
The tables are laid with the swell of emotion – where the fires await their flame,
The rain drums its beat with a stop and start – to put the picture in its frame!
With a Stags head welcome the gift unfolds – when the assemblage is complete,
With the arrival of the spirits stands Paviland Bear – come our Samhain in retreat!
With the grey of the shadows in their gothic colours – and the light is on the slide,
In and out of the rainfall – a roulette of showers – preparations time their tide!
The lanterns they flicker and guide of the way – when the Gong takes up the chime,
There’s a rhythmic connection with the firm of the ground – a circle in its prime!
A melody stirs and calls for an audience – with the Silver Birch and Stones,
Behold a building of force – with the wind on its course – caressing as it moans!
The influences muster like a gathering of planets – warmed by the lick of the Sun,
Burning at the heart of the central table – with its smoke trails on the run!
The elements dance their enigmatic trance – with a weave among the Trees,
Windswept and watered with a weathered appearance – with just a hint of ease!
An ode to the Ancestors and their deep connections – with an honouring of Mead,
With the personal flames – lighting remembered names – with a closeness yes indeed!
And when the moment calms – as we touch our palms – with the melody’s reprise,
In a range of tones – as it vibrates and drones – we share in the sway of the Trees!
With a word to the wise – we count our blessings – one and all and all for one,
We enter the gateway with our scroll of closure – with the daylight almost done!
As we find our words with each in turn – we watch the Samhain cauldron burn,
With its turning to ashes – we look to the future – and all there is to learn!
With the advent of closing – we honour our thoughts – with the spirits here this day,
With the flow of the circle – we share in a toast – before we make our way!
In the darkness the flicker of so many flames – holding of the light,
With the warmth of remembrance – filling the senses – leading the pathway into night!