‘Twas The Night Before Yuletide…

‘Twas the Night Before Yuletide
(This version author unknown, original Clement C. Moore)

‘Twas the night before Yule, and all ‘cross the heath,
not a spirit was stirring – no human or beast.

Warm cider was left by the altar adorned,
to celebrate the Oak King would soon return.

The children lay sleeping all snug in their beds,
while faeries and elves danced through their heads.

Mother and Father beneath blankets piled deep,
had just settled for their own Solstice sleep.

A noise in the night that would give them no peace,
Awakened them both, was it the honking of geese?

Eager to see such a boisterous flock,
They raced to the window, mouths opened in shock!

The west wind blew in a wedge of swans white and gray,
Mother Holle behind them in her gift-laden dray.

A figure on a broomstick in the north sky so clear,
La Befana was bringing her own Yuletide cheer.

From the south came a comet brighter than the moon,
And they knew that Lucia would be with them soon.

These spirits sailed earthward over hilltops and trees,
Mother Holle serenading her feathery steeds:

“Fly Cerridwen! Fly Tegin! Fly Boann and Dagda!
Fly Nantosuelta! Fly Sucellos! Fly Borvo and Damona!

May the sacred spirit inside you soar,
From the stars in the sky, to yon cottage door.”

As soft and as silent as snowflakes they fell,
Their arrival announced by their faintly chiming bells.

They landed so softly, their bodies aglow.
Their feet leaving no marks atop the fresh soft snow.

Before they could ponder what next was in store,
There came a soft creak from the threshold door.

They crept from their bedroom and were spellbound to see
There in the parlor stood the Yule Trinity!

Lucia, the Maiden, her head wreathed in flame,
Shone with the brilliance for which she was named.

Her twinkling eyes held the joy of a child,
As she spoke with a voice that was gentle, yet wild:

“May the warmth of this hearth never fade away.”
She lit their Yule log, it still burns to this day.

Mother Holle in feathered cloak stood regal and tall;
The Matron of Solstice, the Mother of all.

Under her gaze they felt safe and secure.
Her voice commanding, but almost demure:

“May the love of this family enrich young and old.”
From beneath her cloak showered coins of pure gold.

La Befana wore a kerchief atop her silvered hair;
Like the veil of a Crone who has secrets to share.

In her eyes gleamed the wisdom only gained by spent youth.
Her voice was a whisper but her words rung with truth:

“May health, glad tidings, and peace fill these rooms.”
Then she banished misfortune with a sweep of her broom.

They then left a gift by each child’s sleeping head,
Took a drink of the wassail, and away they sped.

While they watched them fly off through the night sky they laughed,
At the wondrous magick they had found in the Craft.

As they departed, the spirits decreed…
Merry Yule To You All & May All Blessed Be!

 

 

From our hearth to yours, happy Yule and a blessed 2012!
- Morrighan, Artemis & Draco

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