Summernights

As summer quickly approaches
we gather the flowers,
awe pick the blossoms,
we wreathe the crown.

Barefoot
the wild hunt begins.
A flurry of legs
treading,
sweeping over the ground.

Hear the sea gushing,
bathed in a dying sun's blood.
The foam of her waves
beckoning.

The fires have been lit.

Hear the music playing,
dancing feet,
faster and faster,
as the instruments fade,
the maids are chanting
and wise women
are breaking the night.

Moonshine in their eyes
they solemnly tread the ground,
wild and knowing eyes,
heavy with summer nights.