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~ By Courtesy of Others ~




The wind is stirring outside,
rebelling at the thought,
that woman, or man,
witch or Goddess,
telling tales of days gone by,
or weaving the wyrd of days yet to come
have had the temerity
to set themselves against it--

You can hear the last whispers
of winter in it's voice--
Commanding to be allowed
to hold onto the land--
Yet, grain must grow,
rain must fall,
sun must shine anew--

Winter's time has passed,
the cloak of white
which lay upon the ground,
the jewels which hung upon the trees,
giving them a majesty
not to be rivaled
in the courts of man,
these garments must be laid aside--
The gray that ruled the sky,
as the Wild Hunt did ride,
has mellowed.
Showing Odin has passed--
His hounds are kenneled--

Dance with me around the pole,
winding ever closer,
shall we share a fire?
Shall we dance until our skin flames,
our blood warmed beyond boiling,
wod has taken us in it's arms?
Shall we lay together,
this Walpurgisnacht--

Ayla Wolffe

* Wolffe's Ways - Aylas former Blog * Children of Eir - Support for Disabled Folk * Ayla can be found on Facebook

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