At Summers End

The frosty, fading Samhain night

Lit by bone fires, shining bright



Mark the start of Old Crone's reign

With harvest cakes not plain



Offerings harvested from the field

Orchard adds to sweetling yield



Those that came before our time

The ones our hearts hold prime



This night of all, the veil is thin

We conversate again



With costumed mask, the souls disguise

To miss the touch of ghostly eyes



The end of summer colors fade

Insulating leaves are laid



Examine closely kine and kid

Weaknesses no longer hid



Write bad habits in a note

Burn it all to ash and mote



Rest a time then start anew

circle turns apace and true



Richard Higley © Oct 2011