so is May
the winds bring in
whispering for all to begin
a glow comes from the night
drifting a magic of passionate delight
once more the return
from the ground the ferns...
green slender spore filled fronds
as all in rapture, being to spawn.
twisted in love
the continued union of trust
coveted from spring watered dust
spinning round and round,
the petals of bloom braided in, so to speak
oh, the auburn in your hair
radiating beams as the moon seeks.
the ritual spun in desire
from May's bright fire.
the handfastings, echoing in vows
as the wickening of a wolf's sacred howl.
around the maypole she must go
as the sun begins to sink low.
times filled with gay
with oatmeal cakes and sweet honey on display
the god and goddess have come out to play.