The Eve of Mid Winter

'Twas the eve of mid winter and all through the coven,

The witches were cooking strange things in the oven.

There were mugwart frittatas and dragons's blood stew,

And mescaline eggnog and mandrake fondue.

There were hot mountain oysters and road kill pate,

And spotted owl kidneys and wombat flambe.

The circle was cast and the herbs had been smoked,

In hopes that the Goddess would soon be invoked.

When out by the hot tub arose such a clatter,

I jumped on my broom to see what was the matter.

And what should I see in the blackberry thorns,

but a soaking wet Goddess and eight unicorns.

"I was just sitting down with my vibrating phallus,

And a good book", she muttered, "You witches are callous".

"I came when you called, over all my objections,

And got lost in the woods - you give lousy directions".

--- Unknown

The Great Mother

She is full tonight, round and silver

And shines on me with light that hurts.

My soul lifts up, my body loosens,

The great sensation never ends. 

Great Mother          

I am yearning for you, I need you near me.

I miss you although we never met.

Strange, it feels we've been together

In another life, another set.

Oh Mother Great, how can I miss you?

I've never seen you from very close.

But I'm your child, your precious daughter

And you'll protect me, just like a rose.

--- Amarra MorningStar

Gift of a Quilt

This quilt was made with love and care,

To keep you from the cold night air.

I only ask you to treat it well,

For any broken stitch will tell.

If youngsters bounce upon your bed,

Then substitute another spread.

And don't spill tea or jam or cake,

Upon what took me years to make.

If you do stain it, I beseech,

I beg you to spare the chlorine bleach.

If you would hang it on a wall,

Forget the nails or not at all.

Protect from mildew and from moth,

Don't use it as a picnic cloth.

This quilt I made as a gift to you,

But it's a piece of history too.

--- Unknown