The Winds of Beltane!

The rain in few to lots – of spits and spots – a welcome through the gate,
The drips and drops – the starts and stops – are better earlier than late!
There’s a forceful breeze – pushing the leafing trees – with the rushing of a sway,
The Crows they ride – the growing of the tide – the wind it rules the day!

Welcome a calling to a Beltane morn – the Blackbird eggs have hatched,
Four pairs of eyes – they act out their silence – until the door is closed and latched!
At a week or so they fill the nest – with their feathers all a grow,
With a week or so before its time to go – undisturbed they’ll join the flow!

With a grand approach the Buzzard enters – flying low and from the North,
Turning to the west with a blaze of plumage – where the wind it sends it forth!
The Pheasants looks nervous and cling to their covers – the song birds feed their nests,
Backwards and forwards the infinite journeys – until darkness slowly rests!

A timely shower opens – to clear up the skies – before its blown across the fields,
The wind a passion of power – setting robes a flutter – giving everything it wields!
The drum it beats from the outer path – and the lanterns take on their glow,
The fire crackles – the incense smoulders its flavours – with the gathered good to go!

With the grasping of words to be carried away – sailing upon the gust,
The Green Man is honoured with the sowing of seed – the Cow Slip is a must!
Hailing the Summer with the gift of high spring – the Hawthorne and its grace,
Sharing in the backdrop with the Apple blossom – the Primula’s mark their place!

With a dusting of spice the Mead it flows – with the raisings of a toast,
With the Cow slip wine and the Apple juice – and Spring Water for our host!
With the closing on the march to the building of cloud – the wind it gives its all,
As we pass through the raging fires of Beltane – the raindrops start to fall!

Holding the moment there’s a scattered shower – dissolved in the goblet of Mead,
Lining the table in the footprint of the roundhouse – with a smile for all decreed!
With poetry remembered in the glowing of memories – to a casual drumbeat dance,
The gathering they soak in the Sun of celebration – in the shine within its trance!

On the back of the gate hangs a pentagram – found from a wheel to the ways,
Making an appearance as we founded the Grove – on the second of our days!
With the gateway erected it found pride of place – finally secured over winter’s span,
With its closing today a nest was discovered – to fit where only a Wren it can!

With the warm glow of Mead we saw assembly dismantled – gentle at its pace,
Alone the Pheasant – braving the climb in the east – as the raindrops hit my face!
As the fires lowered – the wind picked the final embers – a shower caught our leave,
A meander in the rain and the winds of Beltane – with my heart upon my sleeve!

Awaiting our lift and the welcome of family – the rain moves upon its way,
I remember the Mallards that passed as a pair – near the ending of our day!
The odd Wood Pigeon wrestles the elements – with a smattering of Crows,
There’s a gathering of roads to be found at the junction – where meeting comes and goes!

oOo