I am a man growing old with the tide
My lady from long ago stands at my side.
We gather our harvest – laid out and dried
'Tis quite humorous how this day will coincide

With the Equinox; equal in day and night
Her face still all aglow – eyes very bright
Together we enjoy the young ones delight
As we meet and hold hands round the firelight.

Thankful are we for the given feast
As fearless hunter – of the hunted beast
Not to be defiled as the very least
But thankful to its spirit, as it is released.

Our cornucopia include libation of sweet wine
Provided in abundance from the fruitful vine
We seek with the earth our energies to align
We count our blessings; three by three and nine.

We call this the celebration of Mabon
Autumn from sunset to the break of dawn
Dancing in joy around our pentagon
And lay to rest our souls where we lay upon.

For I am the Green Man with my bride to be
Reborn and renewed ‘tis the cycle of the tree
My Lady is at the third within the trilogy
From Mother to Crone she celebrates with me.

Joyous Mabon!
to you and yours all year long!