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Mayday
holloways cut deep into the moors edge
through a churchyard alight with dandelions
the path leads off across fields yellow with
vanilla gorse and celandine stars
the tiny meadow graced by ladies smock
violets hide under the hedgebank
a bumblebee drones above the rivers rush
the robin sings a welcome
here at Beltane held in a cup of blackthorn froth
water trickles into the basin
sunlit ripples strobe across the surface
meditate sky and cloud
the hand reaches to the fern clothed well
crosses the sanctity of time
holds the purity of water
the energy that meets here
links the past to now
stretches forward into the future
the lichened stones hold the presence
the spirit that pours peace into the land
Bob Woodroofe
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