The people gather high upon the hill To mark the end of winter and to bring The summer in. We love and dance and sing As we have always done, and always will. We fetch the wood, cut from nine holy trees, And stack it in two pyramids so high That when they’re lit, the sparks will light the sky And fly like fairy-lanterns on the breeze. We throw the barn doors wide and soon they yield As fine a herd of cattle as you’ve seen. We drive them to the fires, and between, To give them all protection in the field. We take the fairest maiden by the hand And we bring out a wreath of blooming May To crown her, who will be Queen for a day, That she may name her king and bless the land.
This poem was originally written as part of the Poetry Fishbowl project. It was later published in Elodrym Library 4/8/08.