Monday, December 15, 2014

Ringing In the Yule


Just a little reminder that we have our last event of the year at Epping  at the Friends Meeting House, Hemnall Street, CM16 4LL (Harlow end of Epping) this Wednesday the 17th December, which will start at 7.30 pm  (doors open 7.15 pm admission £6, which includes a free raffle and light refreshments).  We will have Liz Gale and Nigel Irving doing the presentation with Daniel Naughnane singing one of the old carols and evening full of surprises and fun so why not come and join us. This is a Yule celebration and I discovered this on another blog and decided I too should share this beautiful piece, which I will do at the end of this post.  I would also like to recommend a site on Etsy and some beautiful rainbow bags although this lady Cynthia Ellsworth makes lots of lovely goodies so please take a look at some of her lovely pieces, which would make lovely gifts at any time of the year - she can make them to order too.  Take a look at these.
Here is the  link and you will see for yourself how delightful her goods are and reasonably priced too. 
 
Twas the Night Before Yuletide

Twas the night before Yuletide and all through the glen
Not a creature was stirring, not a fox, not a hen.
A mantle of snow shone brightly that night
As it lay on the ground, reflecting moonlight.

The faeries were nestled all snug in their trees,
Unmindful of flurries and a chilly north breeze.
The elves and the gnomes were down in their burrows,
Sleeping like babes in their soft earthen furrows.

When low! The earth moved with a thunderous quake,
Causing chairs to fall over and dishes to break.
The Little Folk scrambled to get on their feet
Then raced to the river where they usually meet.

“What happened?” they wondered, they questioned, they probed,
As they shivered in night clothes, some bare-armed, some robed.
“What caused the earth's shudder? What caused her to shiver?”
They all spoke at once as they stood by the river.

Then what to their wondering eyes should appear
But a shining gold light in the shape of a sphere.
It blinked and it twinkled, it winked like an eye,
Then it flew straight up and was lost in the sky.

Before they could murmur, before they could bustle,
There emerged from the crowd, with a swish and a rustle,
A stately old crone with her hand on a cane,
Resplendent in green with a flowing white mane.

As she passed by them the old crone's perfume,
Smelling of meadows and flowers abloom,
Made each of the fey folk think of the spring
When the earth wakes from slumber and the birds start to sing.

“My name is Gaia,” the old crone proclaimed
in a voice that at once was both wild and tamed,
“I've come to remind you, for you seem to forget,
that Yule is the time of re-birth, and yet…”

“I see no hearth fires, hear no music, no bells,
The air isn't filled with rich fragrant smells
Of baking and roasting, and simmering stews,
Of cider that's mulled or other hot brews.”

“There aren't any children at play in the snow,
Or houses lit up by candles’ glow.
Have you forgotten, my children, the fun
Of celebrating the rebirth of the sun?”

She looked at the fey folk, her eyes going round,
As they shuffled their feet and stared at the ground.
Then she smiled the smile that brings light to the day,
“Come, my children,” she said, “Let's play.”

They gathered the mistletoe, gathered the holly,
Threw off the drab and drew on the jolly.
They lit a big bonfire, and they danced and they sang.
They brought out the bells and clapped when they rang.

They strung lights on the trees, and bows, oh so merry,
In colors of cranberry, bayberry, cherry.
They built giant snowmen and adorned them with hats,
Then surrounded them with snow birds, and snow cats and bats.

Then just before dawn, at the end of their fest,
Before they went homeward to seek out their rest,
The fey folk they gathered ‘round their favorite oak tree
And welcomed the sun ‘neath the tree's finery.

They were just reaching home when it suddenly came,
The gold light returned like an arrow-shot flame.
It lit on the tree top where they could see from afar
The golden-like sphere turned into a star.

The old crone just smiled at the beautiful sight,
"Happy Yuletide, my children," she whispered. "Good night."

Note:  If you have any idea who wrote this please comment.  I found it one another blog and they had not idea either  and discovered on Pagan by design
 We are pleased to announce five of our little gnomes are now winging their way to the United States of America and the two out of the seven (see images above), which were knitted are now looking for homes.  We do believe every home should have a naughty gnome so why no give a gnome a home. They aren't very well behaved though, but those five have promised they will try not to disgrace us.  All knitted items are crafted to help fund the sanctuary we intend to establish as it has now been started in Epping. 

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