The Hag of Winter, cold and dark, sat in her house of weather,
When to her ear there came the sound of bells upon the heather.
"What sound is this? They dare to dance!" The Hag stormed to the Green
To find a Maypole tall and gay and the crowning of a Queen.
"Who gave you leave," the Hag cried out, "to dance upon the lea.
You try to turn the season's wheel without inviting me!"
"Oh Mighty Hag," the Queen replied, "we meant to do no harm.
The trees are greening, the flowers unfurl, the days and nights are warm.
Come Great Crone, let the season turn as it is meant to do.
You have my word when time is right, we shall turn back to you."
The Hag considered well and long and studied every face.
"At Samhain then, we'll meet again upon this very place."
So with dance and song, with flowering branch, with ribbons bright entwining;
With 'Obby 'Oss and Jack o'Green, with song and drum and piping.
With loving hearts the feasting starts for all who wish to savor.
And many a fair maid and lusty lad exchange in love their favor,
In union at the wildwood's edge Earth's children sing her praise.
The folk still bring the summer in, as has been done since ancient days.
copyright 1998 Rowan Fairgrove. All Rights Reserved.