Approaching Beltane

So bring a tiny pitcher,

fill it up with milk.

Come set it on the grass,

and wrap it up with silk.

Boil an urn of water.

Sprinkle in some tea.

Pour yourself a cup,

and sit here next to me.

Bring your pewter whistle,

and I'll bring my guitar.

You sing songs for the moon,

and I'll sing songs for a star.

Then wrap ourselves in blankets,

with a fire made of sticks.

I wake up in your arms.

We leave at half past six.

-o0o-