On Michaelmas day when folk come together,
the harvest is in before changes in weather,
Growing now turns to food preservation.
Whatever religion or aspiration,
you cannot deny the wealth of the grain,
farmers reaping and binding again and again,
carry it proudly back to the farmstead,
secure for the future, the families bread.
The last sheaf of corn is left there to stand,
till gathered for use by the old woman’s hand,
to make the corn dollies of nature’s pure gold,
woven and plaited in patterns of old,
the Corn Goddess then can shelter her wings
until next year’s springtime planting begins.
With Michaelmas comes the curfew bell,
that rings between eight and nine to tell
when household fires should be doused for the night,
safeguarding the harvest until it is light.
The seasons we cannot arrange
but Michaelmas is a time for change.
Elaine Morris (c) September 2015.