Lughnasadh Poem

August 1st, 2018

Lughnasadh

The scythe is laid to rest

Now hands beat on chest

As all gather to prove

They are the best

The pride, the joy, the champion

The hero, the one, the winner

In each and every new contest.

Each struggle is met with smiles

Tug of war, rock tossing, wrestling

Fleet footed races through ditches and bogs

Peaty feet slipping and caked in

History.

We fly kites, and hunt treasure

20 questions, buzzing with pleasure

Simple joys, still competing

But no conflict. Competition

Without war.

Just, as we think, Lugh’s mother Tailtiu

Would have wanted.

After all, that’s who he made

Lughnasadh for.

***

About the Author:

Mabh Savage is a Pagan author, poet and musician, as well as a freelance journalist.

She is the author of A Modern Celt: Seeking the Ancestors and Pagan Portals – Celtic Witchcraft: Modern Witchcraft Meets Celtic Ways.


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