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Picture Credits: http://www.josephinewall.co.uk/ sadness.html
Wind the weaving circle clean
For it must end where did start.
The Wiccan call to Maypole wind
Hear the song, see the dance.
Leave not undone what must be done
And in thy haste not see thy path
To Circle grand and dancing pure
As it begins so it does end.
Lutes, and flutes, and lyres
Note the notes of circle tunes
Deep within each and every one
And all who come to dance the circle.
My snow white doves of love I hear
With humming bird like magick gems
Of green and white they fly to see
A circle that ends where it began.
Angel faerie lover on my shoulder
Fierce Dragon at my side, these
My friends and loves who with me weave
Our circle of a grand design.
Quickly now, while moon's still full
Take each one a silken, colored cord
Hold it tight and now begin the dance
Of Life and Death as all must go.
All the forest creatures and the Folk
Come to hum the note of lute and flute
And see the steps so softly made to wind
Magick cords into life's circle.
Gentle winds, smells of cedar and the
Camphor wood are brought to all this
Quiet night of quiet sounds and wonder
As all do see the circle being wove tight.
When 'tis done, take your circle
Hold it tight unto your heart as good
And pure and give it value of your life
Of all the good things done and said.
The dance now ends, the circle wove
The ends wrapped round and firmly held
A silent prayer is heard as Maypole circles
Round each one to give them granted prayer.
Lifted to my Dragon's back, my love and I
Tis time to leave and say farewell
We are being called and cannot stay
Our circle, too, must end.
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