Willow wreath
A forearm wide
These earthly gifts
Place inside

Red wine warm
Like life’s own blood
White rose shorn
But yet in bud

Broken bread
With sweet of bee
Sprinkled with herbs

Candle black
In silence lit
To lure spirits
From their pits

Greet the dead
When midnight chimes
Present these gifts
Speak these rhymes

“I call the spirits
With solemn breath
To awaken souls
From their death

“I offer gifts
To make spirits strong
For while life is short
Death is long.”

Await the day
Snuff the candle
Turn away

Chas Bogan