Poetry

Happy Beltane 2025

“Beltane Morning”
Mist drapes the hills like a forgotten veil,
and the first birds speak in soft, urgent syllables.
The air tastes of green things returning—
not just grass, but the memory of growth,
the promise of ripening.
At the forest’s edge, a fire waits to be born.
It remembers the hands that struck the flint,
the breath that urged it into being.
Women braid flowers into their hair,
not for beauty,
but for invocation—
as if petals could persuade the gods
to linger a little longer.
The men gather wood
not with silence,
but with laughter sharp as flint,
as if joy itself is kindling.
Somewhere, a drum begins—
steady, low,
older than language.
It calls to something beneath the skin,
something that once walked barefoot through dew
and knew the name of every bird
by the rhythm of its wings.
Beltane is not a date.
It is the body’s remembering—
of light before harvest,
of fire before shadow,
of touch before reason.
And in the darkening grass,
two figures step through the smoke
as if walking into a story
that has waited
a thousand years to be told again.

THE ZIPPER THAT ZAPPED ME

I once had a zipper, a zip-zappy zapper,
It zipped with a ZZZ like a zip-happy clapper.
It lived on my jacket, all shiny and snappy,
But boy, when it’s moody, it’s not very happy.
It zipped up with glee on a Tuesday at two,
Then stopped with a GLUNK! and refused to go through!
It wiggled, it jiggled, it jammed in a loop,
It gobbled my hoodie into a tight swoop!
I tugged it, I begged it, I gave it a pep—
It burped and it squeaked and it nibbled my step.
It sucked in my scarf and it nipped at my chin,
Then laughed a small laugh from its zippery grin.
It zipped itself backward, it zipped in a curl,
It zipped in a circle and tried to unfurl!
Then WHAM! in a moment, it zipped up my cat—
Poor Mr. McWhiskers got zipped in a hat!
“Now listen here, Zipper!” I gave it a glare,
“You’ve zipped half the hallway, the rugs, and my chair!
You zip without manners, you zip without care!
I’d send you to jail if I just had a spare!”
But Zippers, you see, are a strange little crew—
They’ll zip what they want and they’ll zip what they do.
You think that you wear them, but oh, it’s a trick—
The zipper’s the boss! And it zips you up quick.
So now I wear buttons. They’re slower, it’s true.
They don’t zip my cat or my sandwich or shoe.
They’re calm, they’re polite, and they won’t cause a scene…
Except when they pop off and bounce off my screen.
NATIONAL ZIPPER DAY – 4/29