 Enjoy this blessed solstice, and the grand and simple rhyme of the turning seasons! Winter falls like a hammer of night On the earth - thick anvil of frost But we strive here beside the ember glow With the pines yet green beneath the snow; And under the blue ice lie the seeds Of meadows for the honeybee; The wind will turn the wheel of sky On which the cold steel Valkyries ride Clearing the morn for the white sun And take us to Valhalla once again Where the little berries ripen red And the hills are softly burned green - T. Powell (Photo of Newgrange, from Irish Central) |
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