Thursday 30 June 2016



Faeriefolk at Imbolc

February now is looming, Imbolc has arrived;
time for trial marriages, time to look ahead.
Faeries gather for this feast, from Celtic rites derived
to make sure fields are fertile and provide their daily bread.

Frozen ground, snow covered, hides harbingers of Spring,
snowdrops, winter aconites, hellebores and such.
In the bare and leafless tress robins dance and sing
most performing solo - they rarely mingle much.

The sacred flame once more is lit to purify the land,
encouraging the sun once more to leave its winter sleep.
Faeries, elves and pixies meet and take anothers hand,
perhaps a year, or maybe more, their promises to keep.

Every ancient Celt and Gael would know the custom well
for everyone had equal rights in matters of the heart.
To make or break such marriages requires no faery spell,
to marry they just meet and kiss,; to end it - walk apart.

As for prognostication, the Druid's skill is sought.
Shamans, as in ancient time, who practise secret rites
look into the future, a skill they have been taught,
handed down by ancient teachers to their acolytes.

Foxes leave their earthen lair to watch these strange events.
Badgers are still fast asleep within their cozy sett.
The sun, though dim and distant, momentarily relents
and sends a wintry blessing down upon this etiquette.

© 2004


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