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Poems by Jim Fulcomer
Celebrate The Solstice

The sun, in each successive arc, Leaves us with increasing dark.
Shadows lengthen, dawn comes late, the gloom of dusk does not abate.
The Hunter rules the sky at night, with Sirius behind, to bite
Celene, once low in summer sky, now towers loftily on high.

The slow rotation of our sphere, denies us hours of day each year.
Ancients marked this aberration, while they noted the position
of the Golden Orb each day and watched it as it crept away.
The Solstice, long anticipated, and most eagerly awaited,
by the worshipers of pall, whose rituals do now enthrall,
those who proclaim the Saviors birth, and sing and pray for peace on Earth.

A pagan feast has now been claimed, by priest and scribe and those ordained
to lead their flock in joyful praise, and drive all fear and doubt aways.
They cast the merchants to the fire, and those who promulgate desire,
to fill their coffers with bright gold and slash the price of goods unsold.

How strange the Winterset has come - the long, cold nights with digits numb.
The New Year should by rights, begin, at nadir of the solar spin.
The wise ones would have had it so, but wisdom isn't always right,you know.

So celebrate the Solstice done, for each new day will bring more sun.
Helios will resume his course, and show again his awesome force.
Drive out the cold and cruel frost - awake the greenery once lost.

Cheer on the slow returning light, with mead and ale - and dance tonight!
Let not the chill of winter harm - stoke well the fire and keep you warm.