by Robin ap Clericus.
Autumnal equinox returns once more,
The waning year knocking at the door.
But instead of joy at the equal time,
Tis sorrow that has turned me to rhyme.
For as I wake on this wondrous day,
It is Happy Mabon I hear you say.
The fault must lie with Aiden Kelly,
Whose messing has made me sick to belly.
A perfect festival with name to suit,
Kicked in the teeth with hefty boot.
For instaed of equal night by name,
Twas Mabon that he brought to fame.
For reasons not know to human kind,
Welsh minor character he brought to mind.
No link to harvest fruit or grain,
This Mabon thing has become a pain.
No relevance was ever told,
From witch or heathen pagan bold.
Mabon greeting I hear the cry,
As equinox goes floating by.
What is worse and drives me mad,
They pronounce it Maybon it is soooo sad.
Mab is an A like in cat or bat
But not according to some silly prat.
The cayt sayt on the mayt they say,
I wish it would just go away.
Please save me from this retched plight,
While celebrating this festive night.
Equinox for millennia used
Casted aside like worn out shoes
Replaced with a word merely decades old,
Through social media this nonsense sold.
A festival can be named all things
It’s all about the joy it brings.
But before you shout out blessing bold,
Research your terms don’t join the fold.
In Light and Shadow,
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