Nuts and bolts from Anne Hill’s blog: It is time once again to pull out your journals, those scraps of paper and backs of envelopes where you have jotted down verse throughout the year—you know you have—and offer it up to the Goddess Brigid, patron saint of Ireland. Brigid loves poetry, excels at smithcraft, is an accomplished healer, and midwife, and in my experience also appreciates a fine whiskey on her Feast Day.

Which is tomorrow. Or as I prefer to think of it, the entire weekend.

This Silent Poetry Festival has been going on since 2006, and has become a wonderful, international event, with people posting poems in honor of Brigid on their blogs, Facebook, Twitters, Tumblrs, and other such devices.

Details here.

My contribution:

 

Her Cross

 

smithwoman, skirts of fire;

poetry maker, filled with desire;

swirling hair, woman of wells;

fierce eyes; the mystery swells.

 

dip and quench your mighty thirst,

with healing waters of the first

who claimed the many broken one,

‘round them all her magic spun.

 

Breathing, seething, with the new,

waiting for the Spring’s first dew,

yanked and stretched into long fine cord

your life’s work hung o’er the door.

 

©Pamela V jones Imbolc 2014