Wishing for Winter

The days grow longer
And I grow weaker,
I'm not a summer child.
I relish the endless night,
Snuggled under duvets
And chilling winds that bite.

Give me skeletal trees
Wearing cloaks of freezing, grey fog,
Sheltering only the hardiest of creatures.
Keep your fat, green trees
Ripe with fruity riches,
Showering their ground with their excesses,
And enveloping all in their leafy layers,
Away from the sun's fearsome burns.
Give me instead the warm glow of a log fire,
Crackling and sparking, as the moon rises
And takes it turn to be Lord of the Skies.

Oh, give me wistful winter nights,
And you may have your long, tedious summer days.

© 2008 Ancestral Celt


Set me free, I beg of you.
Set me free from this lonliness I endure.
Love me, as I ache for your love.
Touch me, as I yearn to be held.
Set me free.
I beg of you.
Love me.

© Ancestral Celt 2008

A Warning?

You do hark.
Hark to me?
You still hark;
What do you see?

You do squawk.
Squawk at me?
You still squawk;
Talk to me?

Owl now hoots.
Hoots for me?
Owl still hoots;
Hoots at thee?

Raven, raven, owl;
Talk to me?
Raven, raven owl;
Message for me?

© Ancestral Celt 2009