My Seasonal Poems-Autumn

Jack-in-the-Green isn't looking so green anymore
He's turning gold, and crimson, and orange, and what's more,
His leaves are falling away like the gray hair of a little old man,
Falling ever faster as the west wind does blow like a fan,
Only His hair is bright in His old age,
He is a silent but merry and colorful old sage.
His whiskers are turning pumpkin with a hint of squash, and a bit of apple.
But He's still the Green Man God to all Pagan people.
He'll be bare headed soon to welcome His brother, Jack Frost.
Who will be returning again, He was never lost,
So Jack-in-the-Green sits on His throne with His green all but gone,
Laughing at His own miscolored leaves and smiling on,
For He knows He'll be all the greener when old Jack Frost runs off again in the spring.
And 'wearing o' the green' will be the song His happy worshippers will again sing.

Cornucopia

Mother Nature's cornucopia spills forth more
Than we could ever wish for,
She provides us with a bountiful harvest every autumntide,
For She has too much sacred fertility to hide,
She sends us food to eat, water to drink and all the things we need,
She even sends our children into our wombs, in deed!
Her sacred fertility is a miracle above all others,
Her ablity to give life, should be worshipped, like all mothers'!
Her cornucopia is full to overflowing,
and Her love for us, Her children, is beyond knowing.
Our Blessed Mother, with her cornucopia in hand,
pours out Her sacred fertility to us, the animals, and the land.

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