Youthemeus

Because there are few things we can be sure of….

For all my Southern Hemisphere friends….

The actual card does not have the copyright text running through it!

The actual card does not have the copyright text running through it!

To address the lack of easy to use calendars for us “Down Under”, I have created some postcard-sized “Southern Hemisphere Sabbats & Esbats – 2015”
I hope that you find them as useful as I know I will!

On the reverse side it reads:

“May the light of the Moon, Stars and Sun 
Guide your path for years to come.

I’ve got a couple of hundred and am selling them on eBay for a silly price (10 for $6.50 with free postage). Basically, this only just about covers the cost of printing and eBay fees!

Link to eBay:  http://r.ebay.com/BwXuDR  (Sorry, these are only available in Australia)

(For all you sunset lovers out there, that sunset was over Glenelg Beach, SA)

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Song of The Earth Witch

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Song of the Earth Witch

My strength, my thoughts, my guile is found,
both in the earth and all around.

With corners called, the towers surround.
My words, my spells with intent compound.

E’en, from my lips my chant doth sound,
Yon circle spins my magic round.

And when my work is all laid down,
I plunge my roots deep in the ground.

The shadows fly, my wishes bound.
So mote it be! Let this resound.

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The Crone and The Keys

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The Crone and The Keys

“You have the keys to life,” she said,
As she sat and scratched her wizened head.
“And I can teach you nothing else,
than just to look inside yourself.”
Deep in her ancient eyes, I saw
Ninety sunsets, maybe more.
The autumn woman, wise old Crone,
Turned, pointing, fingers all a-bone.

“You, maiden! You, mother! You, future me!
The secret of it all, you see,
Is to let love guide your every step.
And treat all Magic with respect.
Your path is long, the climb is steep;
You’ll lose more than you ever keep.
You’ll heal, you’ll grieve, you’ll laugh, you’ll grow.
You’ll need our Craft where’er you go.

But when journeys o’er, and the years retreat.
Be proud, my dear, of a life complete.”
And turning, she pressed her hand in mine,
“Live well, live long – and don’t waste time!”
I watched her rise; her joints complained.
Very little of her light remained.
Then gone she was, no trace to find,
Of that sage old Crone and her infinite mind.

© youthemeus 2014

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