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Safety
Druids
On the eve of a harvest moon,
I enter the forest
seeking knowledge.
A mighty ring of oak trees
stand before me,
their massive trunks
spread wide,
protecting the inner circle.
Inside the ring
their lyrics call to me
chanting, mesmerizing,
I am drawn closer.
I see the Druids
dancing, celebrating
the season of change,
Samhain,
when earth sleeps under
a blanket of approaching winter.
I grow dizzy,
a face appears
inviting me into the circle
to him, to dance.
His magic flirts with my soul
our movements are frenzied,
his lips are ripened fruit
ready to be tasted.
He is holding me
against the oak tree,
lips nibble on my neck
while the oak bites my back,
his leaves caressing my hair.
Fingers or branches
stroke me, inviting me to
step forward and embrace
the movement, the madness,
the merriment.
I welcome
the winter.
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