Dance Pretty Maiden, draped with

cascading hair, falling in false modesty,

dance, around druid's intoxicating fires

bringing sweet freedom from crop blight

and ancien cursed faeries of the dark.

Link with sistere ambiance this eve

of summer equinox and pagan thought

as the glow of the burnished sun, sets low 

between the portals of an inviting freedom.

When all things merge into opaqued vision

fear not the swaying of folk around these

mysterious stones of this paganised park.

Frenzied rituals cavort in superstitious fear

casting runes afore ye as their lyres play soft,

gathering speed slowly to your lythesome spin,

turn, spin again, leap high 'cross exploding flames,

breath deep as hell's brimstone fills the air and chants

cast eerie spells on the thirst of crops held high within.

 

Then drop, Fair Maiden, to hand ~ bevelled stone

and release just one ~ sacrificial ~ groan.