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Folkways
Harvest's home and hearth fires lit;
We raise the horn and hail with it--
We hail the ash, we hail the oak
We hail our gods, we hail our folk
With barnyard full from floor to bin
We thank the tompten and their kin
We give them oats with honey soaked
We hail our gods, we hail our folk
Our holly and our noble pine
Give us their green through winter time
While the world with snow is cloaked
We hail our gods, we hail our folk
With horns raised full of golden mead
We hail the ones who meet our needs
Winters Nights these rites evoke:
We hail our gods, we hail our folk
And when the spring arrives again
We see the long cold winter's end,
And feel the turning of the spoke--
We hail our gods, we hail our folk.
© Juleigh Howard-Hobson
Sommer & Other Poems by Juleigh Howard-Hobson.
A limited edition formalist-heathen poetry chapbook,
available through RavensHalla Arts (ravenshalla@yahoo.com)
Poetic form: Kyrielle
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