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Wassail!

The  autumn's apple harvest is in store,

            The chutney made, the cider stilled,

            The cakes fresh baked, the punch-bowl filled

And we, in winter knowing the season's law

Cry Wassail and celabrate together;

            That first fruit of Eden ta'en,

            That hidden star that eased our pain,

That blossom promised, and ever changing weather,

Create the eternal cycle of our lives.

            So drain the punch-bowl to the core,

            Certain there will be still more

As long as love and friendship both survive.

Brian Hick January 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 23.1.24