Mabon

The moon-rise is bright on this night of all nights,

this August the twenty-first.

When fall’s in the air, magic be there,

on August the twenty-first.

The critters of dusk all do as they must,

this August the twenty-first.

 

On the equinox of Mabon, there is something very glowing,

yet is not intent on showing itself in the dimly night.

It is stirring and procuring for the moon to reach its peak,

it is silent, never violent, as it lingers evermore.

 

There is something which excites us on this,

August the twenty-first.

The people who sense their excitement dispense,

this August the twenty-first.

The twilight air present, its coming deemed pleasant,

on August the twenty-first.

 

On the equinox of Mabon, there is something very glowing,

yet is not intent on showing itself in the dimly night.

It is stirring and procuring for the moon to reach its peak,

it is silent, never violent, as it lingers evermore.

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