Today's poet

[XRunner]

The Longest Night in December

The longest night in December,
no snow nor hail nor winter´s storm
shall hinder us to kindle from embers
the flame that on this night is born.
With our kin we have come to see
this solstice fire´s glorious shine,
as the year is turning, the Yule log burning,
our Gods provide for humankind.

No need nor cold now can oppress us,
we´re sheltered safe from the frosty weather,
for Aesir and Vanir both have blessed us
so we may feast in joy together.
Then let us toast and bring our boast,
and share our gifts with kith and kine;
surrounded by love below and above,
our Gods who care for humankind.

The wheel has turned, the time is near
to say goodbye to the old things gone,
Our Troth remains, and through every year
is shining like the solstice sun.
And so we sing and gladness bring
to hearts fulfilled with joy divine;
Let´s sing wassail and give our hail
to our Gods who love us humankind!

© 2006 Michaela Macha

[MachGirl]

Hey , thankyou for that .....

Ironically, I read your post earlier and was looking for something suitable but I gave up. Just logged on now and seen your
post !

[MachGirl]

Very lovely poem , appropriate too ...... the longest night in December !

[Harry H Howgill]

But I believe it's good
To have one dream left unrealised;
It keeps hope alive,
And the longing can remain
Poignant,
Omnipresent
And painfully bright.

[Mossdog]

A short but sweet little poem ....


Edwin Arnold ' Destiny '



Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours
For one lone soul another lonely soul
Each choosing each through all the weary hours
And meeting strangely at one sudden goal.
Then blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers,
Into one beautiful and perfect whole;
And life's long night is ended, and the way
Lies open onward to eternal day.

Wow - that is just so delightful - thanks MachGirl.

[Harry H Howgill]

A short but sweet little poem ....


Edwin Arnold ' Destiny '


Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours
For one lone soul another lonely soul
Each choosing each through all the weary hours
And meeting strangely at one sudden goal.
Then blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers,
Into one beautiful and perfect whole;
And life's long night is ended, and the way
Lies open onward to eternal day.

That's lovely. I like that.

[Mossdog]

But I believe it's good
To have one dream left unrealised;
It keeps hope alive,
And the longing can remain
Poignant,
Omnipresent
And painfully bright.

That's very well put, well versed, and well....so damn true HHH

[Mossdog]

BEAUTIFUL DREAMER SERENADE

By Stephen C. Foster


Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;
Sounds of the rude world heard in the day,
Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd a way!

Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
List while I woo thee with soft melody;
Gone are the cares of life's busy throng,—
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer awake unto me!

Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea
Mermaids are chaunting the wild lorelie;
Over the streamlet vapors are borne,
Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.

Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;
Then will all clouds of sorrow depart,—
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

[Harry H Howgill]

The Shortest Day

And so the Shortest Day came and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive.
And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, revelling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us - listen!
All the long echoes, sing the same delight,
This Shortest Day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And now so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.

Susan Cooper

[Harry H Howgill]

A Nocturnal Upon St. Lucy's Day, Being The Shortest Day

'Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's,
Lucy's, who scarce seven hours herself unmasks;
The sun is spent, and now his flasks
Send forth light squibs, no constant rays;
The world's whole sap is sunk;
The general balm th' hydroptic earth hath drunk,
Whither, as to the bed's feet, life is shrunk,
Dead and interr'd; yet all these seem to laugh,
Compar'd with me, who am their epitaph.

Study me then, you who shall lovers be
At the next world, that is, at the next spring;
For I am every dead thing,
In whom Love wrought new alchemy.
For his art did express
A quintessence even from nothingness,
From dull privations, and lean emptiness;
He ruin'd me, and I am re-begot
Of absence, darkness, death: things which are not.

All others, from all things, draw all that's good,
Life, soul, form, spirit, whence they being have;
I, by Love's limbec, am the grave
Of all that's nothing. Oft a flood
Have we two wept, and so
Drown'd the whole world, us two; oft did we grow
To be two chaoses, when we did show
Care to aught else; and often absences
Withdrew our souls, and made us carcasses.

But I am by her death (which word wrongs her)
Of the first nothing the elixir grown;
Were I a man, that I were one
I needs must know; I should prefer,
If I were any beast,
Some ends, some means; yea plants, yea stones detest,
And love; all, all some properties invest;
If I an ordinary nothing were,
As shadow, a light and body must be here.

But I am none; nor will my sun renew.
You lovers, for whose sake the lesser sun
At this time to the Goat is run
To fetch new lust, and give it you,
Enjoy your summer all;
Since she enjoys her long night's festival,
Let me prepare towards her, and let me call
This hour her vigil, and her eve, since this
Both the year's, and the day's deep midnight is.

John Donne