Moon Dancing

Once…

‘Neath a star washed ocean in

ring stone round we’d dance. Skyclad,

hand in hand round a bonfire of blessed aromas

amongst moonbeam and meadow sweet,

rhythmically swaying to the drumming beat

with the sky beneath our feet.

In groves of Oak with mistletoe we’d invoke

spirits of the past and otherworldly folk

spinning like jenny’s in our widdershins jig

moon-dancing with posy branch and twig.

With our environment in ecstasy complete

with the sky beneath our feet.

The wayward children of Mother Earth

used to listen to night when it spoke

in shadow tongue but as times wheel turned

her song was no longer heard

bonfires no longer burned

our declaration of indifference well earned

and Gods we no longer greet

with the sky beneath our feet.

P Williams ©2005&06