Mad for the array of chills
accompanying the fall winds;
Bottle the spark of October;
Oasis of breathtaking color,
nothing quite compares.
Colorful leaves on trees
They fall during a breeze
Natures masterpiece
People dressed in fleece
Abundance of Mother Earth
Showing her worth
Pumpkins, apples, and gourds
Harvest festivals volunteer boards
Corn, cider, beans, and wine
All of which are fine
Cornucopia, pine cones, and seeds
Separating wheat from weeds
Stag, blackbird, and owl
Wolves howl
Harmony, balance, and equality
A time of jollity
Amber and cat’s eye
Protect and fortify
Thistle and marigold
For the young and old
Fresh and dried flowers
Décor empowers
Rosemary, mugwort, and sage
Help with romance, prosperity, and age
Orange, red, and yellow
Relax with a cello
Brown, dark yellow, dark green, and copper
Corn in a hopper
Mabon is colorful
Pagans are religious not cultural
The wheel has turned and the seasons have changed.
In Mother Nature's tapestry - the colors rearranged.
A long time ago we traveled from miles around.
Covering valleys, streams, and the roughest ground.
To celebrate this special day with family and friend.
We're not sure when we can gather this way again.
We've brought our crops from groves and fields.
Whatever to us Mother Nature did yield.
It's a day for thanksgiving with all who are here.
Bringing love and laughter to those we hold dear!
There are so many things to be thankful for.
We're never quite sure what the fates for us have in store!
Be happy if you're not suffering or are in pain.
Feel blessed if true love you've been able to gain!
Return to others what you have been given.
And find pleasure in every day that you're living!
Autumn
Leaves turn color
Season painted quickly
The air completes the tapestry
Mabon
The festivities of the autumn equinox begin.
Wicca acknowledges this yearly event as Mabon.
The fruits of all who labor are gathered this night.
A coven encircles an old oak tree in the moonlight.
Giving thanks and praise to all spirits is the reason.
At this Sabbath, summer passes into the fall season.
The witches gather as a full moon shines in the sky.
As the summer departs, there is a chill in the air.
None in the congregation feels it, or seems to care.
Among them is my red-haired doll I see with my eye.
Sky-clad, they are not naked any moment.
They wear the moon and the stars for a garment.
Each gives me jitters with their strange incantations.
Skyward, they brandish their athames and oblations.
For this red-haired beauty, there is a growing yearning.
Never let the flames die. Keep them forever burning.
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