A poem from earlier days
In the magic sparkling world of summer
Birds singing sweetly from an Other World
When the cricket is the midnight drummer
The blossom of love’s buds shall be unfurled
We are Beltane babes, we dance on graves
To awaken spirits in the mound
We move through caves on the way she paves
To play with the goddess underground
Where forests are opened for woodland sprites
Frail faeries descend to dance in the glade
Puck come hither, we are claiming our rites
We are blunting the edge of Calvin’s blade
We are Beltane babes, making our waves
Where the sunset slips into the sea
To swim in waters where Branwen bathed
Salt spray seducing pleasures so free
From rippling wells to the flickering fires
We’ll flirt with the shadows under the moon
Sliding on moonbeams and quenching desires
Taste the sweet nectar and dance to our tune
We are Beltane babes, we’re not your slaves
Spirits so free to wander and roam
Lives so alive not lying in graves
Hold out your hand, we might lead you home
© David Hopcroft September 2002
Park Bench Tales and other writings 