Honouring my ancestors while the veil is thin,
Samhain rituals are far from a sin.
Abundance of love is sent to all,
This life or passed (and not about gauls!)
Wandering the woods collecting autumnal plenty,
Nuts and fruits my baskets far from empty.
Amongst nature I mindfully walk alone,
Apart from my ancestors who follow me home.
Fire is lit and carvings are made,
And my foraged bounty is carefully laid.
Soup bubbles and marshmallows toasted,
Where friends and family are lovingly hosted.
Memories are made and stories are told,
As celebration starts and the night unfolds,
I catch a leaf as it falls to the ground,
My mind is lost but my soul is found!
By Jen Blaxall
