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" One touch of nature

makes all the world kin "

William Shakespeare


July 20th, 2016



How to speak of it:
the bramble path to the heart,
the wind as it rolls flat all that
grew in the sweet fields of May.
As we cut away the dead branches
small green whiskers grow out
in such unexpected places.
The season of bread and sorrow
fast approaches. Lughnasadh
casts a shadow in the hot and golden
fields of summer, where cicadas thrum.
Unspeakable how, the Moon, as she rises
catches the light of the run away Sun,
who lies hidden beneath the earth.

~ Sarah Fuhro

Image by Chad Powell

Image by Chad Powell

8 Responses to “Nameless”

  1. A beautiful poem which has captured the essence of this occurrence… Thank you…xxx

  2. O Lord of the Harvest
    Who has committed to lay down his life for the corn,
    All year you have given your strength
    For our seeds to grow strong.
    You have given your passion
    To help them when they have faltered.
    You have given your laughter
    for when growth was hard.
    Now you lay down your life in the Harvest field,
    So that our seeds may bear fruit
    And the people of the world may be fed.
    You have died for the sake of the coming harvest.
    We pledge to use it well,
    and offer you this bread
    As a token of thanksgiving that comes from our hearts.

    – GAIL Duff (From her ‘The Wheel of the Wiccan Year’

    Have a Thrice Blessed Lughnasadh everyone!

  3. An additional seasonal poem ~ Apples and Bees ~

    I would lie beneath the trees
    And dream the hours away, in heat
    And listen to the hum of bees

    The apples tumble at my feet
    Full of warmth and summer sun
    Dripping juice so ripe and sweet

    How smooth this nectar on the tongue!
    I steep my sense in joy, replete
    And feel that I am ever young

    The sun will sink, the evening comes
    As the hourglass, tireless, runs
    But I will stay here, in the night,
    To look up to the endless stars

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