On Shortening Days

Dawn sun, rising mist,
Crystal dew, fairy kissed
Cobwebs on autumn grass
Tremble, shimmer as I pass.

Heart swells, spirit soars
O’er golden trees and dying moors,
Creatures gorge on bounteous harvest,
Preparing now for winter’s rest.

The veil grows thin for those who know
October’s mysteries now on show.
Death all around the old will vanish
At Samhain’s dawn all fears will banish.

 

 

 

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