The Celtic Bards:
Harvest of Lughnasa
Month of August—covered with foam is the beach;
Blithsome the bee, full the hive;
Better the work of the sickle than the bow.
~Anon. Welsh Poem
~An Autumnal Seasonal Reflection~
As we assemble in
community spirit in (hometown), we focus on the candle flame.
We sit here gathered in peace like most, who know the nature's way.
The morning sun shines on the coastal waters; the rising steam climbs back to
mother cloud.
Feel the presence of nature, a moment in time.
The golden rain falls down from the sky; the harvest corn grows up so high.
The time to reap the crop is nigh.
Nature brings the rewards of yesterday's work, today's hunger fades, and the
yield for tomorrow's high.
Feel the presence of nature, a moment in time.
The standing stone is placed like a beacon of time, the cycles of the seasons
come and go but the stone stays true. Some puzzled what came next, but
there's many more that knew.
Floating mist that circled shadow's, a northern wind that blew.
Feel the presence of nature, a moment in time.
The passing moon begins to fade; the stars around begin to shimmer.
The natural light grows ever dimmer.
The night sky watches over nature's things, the birds begin to call and sing.
Feel the presence of nature, a moment in time.
Alwyn
Samildanach
By Autumn Laird July 30, 2003 Knock thrice upon the door Seeking entrance to the feasting
hoard Upon an ancient mound In the heart of the Ireland Dwells a place of fame and renown But a test awaits in the hills of
Tara For without name or skill no one
makes Barred is the entrance into this sacred place Keeper challenges the bright face Awaiting entry through the gate Speak your name and art for which gives fame “Boast and you will be tried” speaks the doorman Fair
Lug must prove himself to be... A
smith A
builder A
champion A
harper A
hero A
poet A
magician A
physician A
cup-bearer A historian A fire-keeper… By and by all things will be
acknowledged For truth is that which you are Shining bright like a shield in the
sun Many talents and many colors Like the setting and rising sun Begins a time of auspicious augury Enter the hidden one Now revealed to be Tailtiu’s son Long-armed spear hurled upon
divinity Triple born of the sea Swift and fast the handsome Lug
rides To the aid of the Tuatha hero be Nuada yields to thee Game of kings in the Phantom’s eye Forty years as king to live and then
to die Conquer of the Formorians Forever remembered as you pass into
the mists
Gather in the first of the harvest In the lingering summer days Catch a glimpse of him upon the
mounds Or by the lochs and rivers his
presence felt Drink of the sacred wells For in them upon the first in the
August month- Lug will be known as Samildanach Speaking of a time to take the
sickle to wheat Gather the fruit and berries of the earth A palette of colors mirroring
Lug's many gifts Speaking all across the land in
which we live Rises the long-spear of the sun by
which work is done Through the waning day take in the stores for winter days The time of green is now over for the land has turned golden in his arms And the fires are set upon the hills
for the union of earth and sea The long rays of sun slowly sinking from the heaven's girth Shadows across the mounds signal a time to fires light Celebrating
the harvest of Lughnasa night...
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