Oak and Holly

In the deepest and darkest slumber

When the world is plunged in cold and snow

The Earth rests gripped in the heart of Winter

Cloaked in ice and freezing winds that harshly blow

The King who wears the Holly crown

Sits high upon His icy throne

*

We with one ear pressed to the frozen ground

Do hear the sounds of returning warmth

With creaks and groans the Goddess gives birth

To a Son of Oak and light and mirth

Just as the Sun begins its slow return

*

As the Oak babe is suckled and fed

A meal of warming earth and melting snow

The Holly King begins to feel his age

As crocus blooms and tulips push through

Holly knows his time is near an end

Youth no more, now a wise sage

*

On the day that we call Equinox

Young Oak and old Holly now

Stand as equals in the Earth’s heart

Though we know that some day soon

Sadly one will have to depart

*

And so the chase has begun

Round from Winter to Summer’s return

Oak gives chase as Holly leads the race

When wise old Holly can no longer run

He draws a sword against His own Son

A clash of sword and smash of staves

Holly will not easily give way

*

The Lord of Misrule rests in death

Wearing his Ivy and Holly crown

He awaits rebirth with Summer’s peak

The Lord of Sun-lit woodlands

Wears his Ash and Oaken crown

He rules now until the Autumn breeze

The Lady of the great green Earth

Wears her hawthorn and blossom crown

She now prepares for her wedding feast

*

We honour the Flower Maiden, who blesses the blooms

Who is made of meadowsweet, oak-blossom and broom

We are the ones who dance with the Blooming Bride

Ancient and modern rites to celebrate May-tide

*

In the brightest and warmest of celebrations

When the land burst with life and growth

The Sun hangs hot in a blue sky

Blessing our crops and herds and our lives

The King in his Oaken crown

Walks the land with stag by His side

*

We who play and dig in the dirt

Feel the winds shift and the world turn

With a rustle of the wheat field and the ripening of fruit

The Goddess birth a Son of Ivy and Holly too

Now the Sun peaks and begins to wane

*

We honour the Summer Queen, Maiden no longer

Who brings berries and fruit and makes the days stronger

We gathered to witness Her pledge her troth

Where bud and blossom Promise to us Summer’s growth

Summer Queen we thank you for the fertile and abundant land

*

Now the Holly child begin to grow

Fed on the first fruits of the Summer

His waxing strength turns the land towards Autumn

Oak King grows from wild young Hunter

To resting wise Lord ready for slumber

He raises His hand and the land He does bless

The last of His love He gives to the Earth Mother

*

The second Equinox now begins

With Autumn rains and cooling winds

Elderly Oak and youthful Holly

Are once again balanced in harmony

We gather the Harvest and wait for the Hunt

*

It seems that before we know it

We huddle inside and we run and we hide

From the first frosts and from the Wild Hunt

The last of the Harvest is tucked in storage

As Holly tracks Oak with spear in hand

Father and Son, Brother to Brother

They begin that ancient struggle

*

The King of Sun-lit woodlands deep

Gives up His flowered and Oaken crown

He awaits rebirth with Winter’s peak

The Lady of the abundant Earth

Adorned in Her darkest gown

Weds her Holly King and then She

Prepares for Winter’s sleep

The Lord of Misrule takes the throne

Wearing His Ivy and Holly crown

He will rule ’till Spring birds sing

*

We honour the icy Crone, who is also our Mother

Winter winds do shake Her bower

With Her Earthly gifts tucked safely in storage

Meat and grains and fruit dried and put away

We deck the halls and build up the fire

*

And so we will lovingly tend that fire

Pour offerings and make merry

All in Their honour

We sing songs in Their praise

We drum and we dance

With the good Gods

Around the great Wheel

That never stops turning

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About Juniper

Most folks call me Juniper, my friends call me Juni. I am thirty years old but eternally youthful.

I have been a farmer and a city girl, a homesteader and a wanderer. I have worked in animal rescue and occult shops, art galleries, liquor stores and bead shops.

I have been practising Paganism and Witchcraft for 15 years. I am not an Elder, nor guru. I am just a messy little Hedgewitch who speaks her mind.

I hunt in thrift store jungles and gather in the wildwoods. I practice in groves and ditches, hedgerows and sea shores, basements and vacant lots.

This is my journal. It will have funny bits, rants, ramblings, ideas, poetry and more ... Take it as you please. I suggest reading with your tongue firmly in cheek.

Email: juniper@walkingthehedge.net
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