If you have an article you would like us to publish.. Please let us know in 'The Suggestion Box ' forum.
Are you a fish lover?
To start our new series of local fish recipes we have started with a
simple Bass Dish.
If you love a bit of fish then check
the articles page
A Lammas Poem
It was on a Lammas night,
When corn rigs are bonnie,
Beneath the moon's unclouded light,
I held away to Annie
The time flew by, wi tentless heed,
Till 'tween the late and early;
Wi' sma' persuasion she agreed
To see me thro' the barley.
The sky was blue, the wind was still,
The moon was shining clearly;
I set her down, wi' right good will,
Amang the rigs o'barley
I ken't her heart was a' my ain;
I lov'd her most sincerely;
I kissed her owre and owre again,
Among the rig o' barley.
I locked her in my fond embrace;
Her heart was beating rarely:
My blessings on that happy place,
Amang the rigs o'barley.
But by the moon and stars so bright,
That shone that hour so clearly!
She ay shall bless that happy night,
Amang the rigs o'barley.
I hae been blythe wi' Comrades dear;
I hae been merry drinking;
I hae been joyfu' gath'rin gear;
I hae been happy thinking:
But a' the pleasures e'er I saw,
Tho three times doubl'd fairley
That happy night was worth then a'.
Among the rig's o' barley.
By Robert Burns - http://celticanamcara.blogspot.com/2007/08/lammas-poem.html
Author: Galahad Posted 04/03/2010
Corn King
Last stalk standing
King of the corn
kneed low to earth
by sickle sharp.
Self sacrifice;
sake seed salvaged
to swell the belly
for Gaia's gain.
And of the rest?
this first harvest?
Let bread be baked!
Let beer be brewed!
Let folk be full,
frolic fearsome.
Remember King Corn
will in Spring be reborn.
By Kaaren Whitney
Author: Piers Storey Posted 25/07/2009
Lammas
She, who is the Grain Mother, She who is the seed, She, who is the womb, the soil, The provider of life indeed.
She is the regenerative power, With the elements, she works with intent, The miracles within this cosmic plain, Throughout the wheel of ascent.
And now the Sun-God has reached his height, In celebration of our Goddess, A reminder, of that which we have to reap, A time, again, for re-dress.
We have abundance: an explosion, Of everything we and the earth did sow, And nurtured from all four corners, Which helped it all to grow.
An extravaganza of colour bursts forth, Of flowers, grass and corn, First fruits and berries appear once more, Nature's law; forever sworn.
We hold the tribal gatherings and markets, Hand-fasting and ritual games, The appointment of new chiefs and leaders, And choosing of babies names. There is also horse-racing and horse fairs, To honour Goddess Rhiannon, Wakes to mourn Sun's waning power, The jollities go on and on.
We combine merry-making with last year's yields, Whiskey, cider, wine, fruit-cups and beer, And ritually drink the transformative power, Given by our fire and water seer.
And the bread is made from new-grain, 'Tis broken with thanks and tradition, Is shared to each and everyone, We have worked for this fruition. But as we near the end of this fraction, Ashes near spent on Silbury Hill, Face upwards to darkening, dreamy skies, And underlying still ……
Processions completed by sacred well, Waterway and fountain, We've climbed Craogh Patrick by a full Celtic moon, Luasa's sacred mountain.
And Lugh turns us within the spiral of death, And open door-way to the inner realm, We begin to give way to darkness and sleep, The Goddess; gently at the helm. Now, we wait for the final harvest, Closing quickly on the horizon of light, A time for reflective gaze and inner thought,
To take into the night....
She, who is the present, She, who is the past, She, who is the future, Another circle will be cast.
By Andrea Gibbons - http://www.livingthewheeloftheyear.co.uk/main%20html%20pages/festival%20homes/Lammas%20poems/9%20Lammas%20poem.htm
Author: Piers Storey Posted 25/07/2009
The Dandelion Woman
And she said
I am like the dandelion
wild and free
I travel with the wind
I am seeds and sparrows
I am pulled out by the roots
and I grow again
I grow in fields
I grow on mountains
I grow on bricks
and up through cement
where there is no life
I bring life
where there is
the slightest possibility
I grow
No one plants me
no one plans me
I go where the wind takes me
I carry your wish
in my heart
I scatter myself across
the Earth
I grow beautiful with age
I grow white
I grow round and light
I learn to fly
And she said
I am like the dandelion
I am always fertile
I am full of seeds
I am full of
other dandelions
I am full of colour
I am full of yellow
I am full of wishes
I am full of your dreams
Posted in love and light by Fi
Author: Piers Storey Posted 25/07/2009
Nourishment
My sacrum bloats and swells with pain as I get the flour
down from the shelf. Bending to reach into the refridgerator
my lower back smiles relief.
I test the water, wait until it is blood ready before I blend
it with yeast and honey.
I lie on my back and hum softly as it grows,
feeding on the heat and sweetness.
Yeast colonies multiply as the flour resigns itself
to the gravity of the bowl.
Eventually I stand, inhaling the yeasty froth,
pouring it into the flour well, tossing handfuls of the softness
into liquid. As I mix the stickiness folds into itself.
As I knead, the two become rubbery, dense.
As it rises, I collect this moon's blood,
this cycle which seperates me from othre animals,
this ancient knowing encoded in my cells.
I punch the growing dough down and fold my moon's blood into the batter.
It stays brown with a pocket of red
then it melts into pink, encompassing all of the dough.
This is the sun dying into the sky, relinquishing day.
This is the fallen petals of a rose.
I turn this sacred tissue into food for the Earth;
I make this bread to give back to Her.
This blood
which will never nourish a growing child
shall be an offering for other life.
After the dough has risen again, I place it in an oven of clay.
Let it cook inside and out. Let it cool.
And in the dusk of evening wilI dig h the moon full overhead,
I dig a hole deep in my garden between the tomatoes and dill.
I place this dark loaf into the ground and pray for health.
I honour the cycles of the earth, the cycles of a woman and
the blood which feeds life. And so, I feed the heart.
Posted in love and light by Fi
Author: Piers Storey Posted 25/07/2009
Add your poem!
We are always looking for new poems for the next Sabbat editions so if you have any you would like published, please let us know in the forum.
The poems do not have to be seasonal so any thoughts or lyrics would be great!
The more the merrier !!..
Author: Piers Storey Posted 25/07/2009
Cooking at Avebury during Sabbats
Is your conscience clear with using gas cookers in Avebury or is there a better way?
