Poetry


Nature's awakening from her sleep
Spring faeries up the roots they creep.
Bulbs soon burst forth from the earth
Laughing, dancing, filled with mirth.

Blessings on Spring, the bright warm day.
The flower fairies have come to play.
Water well the seeds you sow,
Give them love and watch them grow!

If you wish to see faerie light,
Take a draught this brew tonight,
Sweet alfalfa, sage and elder flowers,
And sit you under starry showers.

by Patricia Obsidian
Art by W. Lyon Martin 













Grandmother came riding on the north wind right after Samhain. 

She greeted us with a flurry of snow. 

The children ran out laughing and sticking out their tongues to catch the icy flakes, as children have been doing every winter since the first snowfall. 

“Old Lady is shaking Her featherbed!” one of them giggles. 

“The geese are flying!” squeals another, dancing as wildly as the howling wind. 

“The snow tastes like sparkly sugar!” a little girl whispers as she gazes thoughtfully up at the racing clouds. 

And so Grandmother Winter arrived for her yearly visit once again. She spread her white cloak out over the mounds of sleeping brown hills and settled down upon the land. 

Like any old woman, sometimes Grandmother Winter is tender, sometimes she is cross. 

Her silver icicles, the craftwork of her clever hand, can be both beautiful and deadly, crystals or swords. 

Her voice can howl like the banshee or sing like the silver bells do on the longest night. 

And like all grandmothers, too soon she is gone, leaving a trail of flowers and cozy memories in her wake. 

After she leaves, the old people linger by winter’s last fires a little while longer as if to hold onto their own fragile, fading seasons. 

But the children run out once again, chasing the first rainbows of Spring and gathering ribbons for the Maypole.
by Gillian Green, Hekate by Sandra Stanton


Inviting, frozen popsicles 
Collage of winter white 
Evergreens twinkling bright 

Icy diamond castles 
See-through kingdoms decorate the yard. 

Nights of luminous glitter 
Images on a sea of light under dark 
Cold swords, sliding boards 
Even a delicate doe, crackles through the snow. 

By Lyn Sirota, Art by Regina Briseno




 Oregano was most perplexed, and Parsley and Thyme too. 
The temp at dawn was 33, by evening 82. 
"We don't know what to do!" they cried, "To bud or sprout or seed?" 
"Come on now, Dears," old Catnip mewed. "Summer's all we need." 
"We're much too small," the seedlings wept, "to be so cold, then hot! 
We think we're set to up and sprout then, suddenly, we're not!" 
And while they sadly shivered Summer's sun came into view. 
And so the garden fully knew what Nature meant for them to do. 
They soaked in Sun, and turned deep green, and grew, and grew... and grew.

by Patricia Obsidian
Art by Lindsey Becker




Thirteen Witches made a wish,
Placing candles on a dish,
Then they lit each with a flame,
Thirteen candles burned the same.
As they flickered all night long,
Thirteen Witches sang a song.
They danced around, calling out,
"Thirteen wishes come about!
To the Moon, and to the Sun,
To the Stars, and everyone.
To the mountains, to the sea,
Thirteen wishes all have we.
Thirteen candles melt away,
As we make a wish today.
Thirteen times we sing our plea,
This is our will, make it be!"
The flames burned high, then burned low.
The flames burned fast, then burned slow.
All the candles cast a glow,
Fire made the hot wax flow.
Through the night the candles blazed
With the magic that was raised,
Thirteen candles on a dish
Thirteen Witches made a wish.

by Conny Jasper
Woodland Witch by Sue Miller









Lady Moon, shining bright;
Please watch over us tonight.
Like the ocean's waters deep,
Calm and restful be our sleep.
In the Sea of Dreaming's waters,
Heal and bless your sleeping daughters.
Heal and bless your sleeping sons;
Keep us safe, your little ones.
Blessed Be.


by Lisa Kelly-Briggs
Art by Heather Kreiter

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