(May 1, or the first Full Moon of Taurus. Also called Lady day or
May Day.)

Beltane is the time of the Horned God and the Lady of Greenwood;
honor of the house guardian.


A May Morn

by Autumn Laird

April 20, 2002

I welcome thee into my home,

Sweet spring bouquets at my doorstep,

Merry is the laughter while young hearts pluck the tiny betrothals,

Fresh is the air and the life,

The flowers springing forth in perfumed gladness,

Celebrating the dance of bees humming,

Birds singing the sun arising,

Lovely Lady of fine delicate features,

Like a flower blossom you sip the morning dew,

And a blessing overcomes me,

To feel you so near dear Queen,

Blessed God to the lovers side,

Welcoming embrace as Lord and Lady entwine,

Summer has come so full and bountiful,

The fire is rekindled and life's pleasure renewed,

By the May sun following the moon,

Round the circle the ribbons wind red and white,

As day passes into night - children rest and adults delight,

Find their Beltane hearts unite,

And I welcome the kisses of the season,

Brought by the bright fire burning within;

On the first of May dawning in the wheel's turning.

Beltane

By Autumn Laird

May 1, 2001

Beltane fires burning low, slow pulses the ember, with the howling winds, lifts the spark to meet the air, fueling the fires of lovers here, finding the wonder of the night so dark, in the arm of peace and reality, quickly passes the crescent moon overhead, the Lady watches us planting the seed of generations proper, clouds quick with the dancing feet, and the chant found here, around the merry poles of colored wind,  the rainbow arch within the vine, so my dear Greenman steps inside, casting our frenzy into vital proclamations, so the embers continues to be fueled by the seasons past, reaped in the fall of the embrace, the wood licked by the flame, settling the shadows with the light of the burning time, and letting our sweat and arms extending further into their dance, all for them all for
the future, comes this vision of fire dancing in the winds, waxing with the star filled moon overhead, with the trees whispering the song, heard within this evening chorus, the frogs calling with ritual emergence, so the animals call to me with the crane flight, low and long comes this cackling caphony, in the
marshes slumbering beside the goose downs, who wake us all with the honks of angelic laughter, from this
moment I take to the sky with my feet, lift my hand to the drum to chant, and find the compelling night lifting my walls, by the fireside I know my truths, I know my love grasp held in a God's eyes, how his presence makes me tingle, makes me wanton for the soul to fill his place, with more than the hot breath and whispered glance, without the masks of visions request, to be clouded like the mist as soon as my eyes shutter, by the flash of light my eyes grow accustom to the darkness, and know that my bouquet of flowers still blossoms, a simpler shade of
night, growing with the rays of moonlight,  To place the baskets of flowers at my door, stored with the well wishes of my life, plucked from the stem the aroma lingers on my hands, the dewdrop rolling off of the petals like a lifeless kiss, I meet him here under the old hollow bones of oaken might, with my cloak darkening my mysterious rendezvous, to meet the dancers here by the embers of Beltane night,

cont...

Waiting for the instructions to seed the leafless love, with the memories afresh into a new passage of time, the basket lays waiting for the right friend, to spark the glowing coal to a vision all its own, and flutter and fly to ignite the sky, with the ashes winking out as it meets the stars, flying on the illustrious winds of spirit, hoping that my form will greet the love that I crave, the eyes that do not waver in my faith, that were held here in every strung moment, bound to me by the ribbon that dances
on the breeze, held between one so real and another figment, I see the someday where we two are the tree, wound together by these strings and the laborious fruit of the search, the blooms awake in pink purity watching the drunken bees, honeyed they spiral endlessly for their queen and her sweetened tongue, so the pair of human lovers entwined like the asps of medicine, this love be strange in its ways of workings, but there is a night to procure such bliss without the fall, vein is the lust of the frenzied night twirls, the
time for all to be able to touch their true loves, and to grasp another still in the arms, to see in them what you desire most by the embrace of wingless
flight, reaching across the void into the realm where all
exist, to touch you briefly for the encounter that love
does cross, endless time- endless emotions overloading the senses, and tangling further the reality and the myth of dreaming life, and to wake again on a sun in the east glowing on the face of such things, as this love found by the flicker of fire and embers on just such a night, found here heaven in the
exchange of season’s wheel, planting again your feet
firm here, to the earth you root and sun your swaying limbs, extending to the powers that reside in this place, sacred is the home is the house of the
lovers swoon, and the circle continues round on the orbit of sun, earth and moon.