“…and eyes full of tinsel and fire.”

[I first posted this last year on December 21. It’s the second most popular poem in the series, and I offer it again in the spirit of the season.]

SOLSTICE SONG

Come and grace our gleeful number;
Come and shake off snows unknown.
Bells will ring while wood-woes slumber;
Bells will ring for you alone.

Rave with uncles reeked in holly;
Reel with aunts who saw you born.
Whirl away your grear-tide folly;
Hearth-life dwindles ere the morn.

Haul the ash-bin ’round the byre;
Feel the pinelight breathe your name.
From the tongue of colder fire
Cracks and calls a hotter flame.

Run and chase your sweet-lipped singer;
Run and race your hope anon.
Bells will ring where’er ye linger;
Bells will ring when you are gone.

(For all the entries in this series, hit the “looking up” tab, or read the gargoyle FAQ.)