I love the natural elements, especially the rain, wind and sunshine. They are part of me, me a part of them.
I hardly ever wear sun glasses, the sun needs to see me. I need to see it. Weird for some to understand I’m sure, but true. I smile at the wind and rain right now. Some people will be cursing its power instead of paying attention to it, enjoying its gift. We all see or enjoy things when they are intimately related to our own pleasure- a warm rain is linked with who I am, I love it so, the gentle wind, warm on the skin as the rain plays with my skin and hair. There you go another bizarre layer of Tilly and her twists.
How can you not love the gentle breeze on a warm day? The light flutter or play of the wind when we are on the beach and basking in the sun.
Nature in all it’s seasons, for example when the wind blows with the cold force of the snow and covers parts of the earth with the white dust fragments, is that not beautiful? Do we not appreciate spring all the more when it comes?
But then I pause and ask this question: Will we? Will we world, will the average person reflect and appreciate?
For some, yes, for others? No, they will forget the moment in a few days of warm weather and begin to complain that the bugs are out, or the grass is soggy and muddy, to warm- too cold, always a complaint. Funny how complainants are always so easy for some to find, so easy to bitch about something. But that’s their choice, and by thinking that way, I too am falling victim to negative judgement.
Choices really, we all have them world, and if in my own opinion others are making bad choices, it is their choice to make, I need to focus on my own, and how I can continue my personal growth of being a better person so I can help make this a better world.
Interesting Facts and Information Regarding the Summer Solstice
(Also known as Litha, Alban Hefin, Sun Blessing, Gathering Day, Feill-Sheathain, Whit Sunday, Whitsuntide, Vestalia, Thing-tide, St. John’s Day)
In addition to the four great festivals of the Celtic year, there are four lesser holidays as well: the two solstices, and the two equinoxes. In folklore, these are referred to as the four ‘quarter-days’ of the year, and modern Naturalists and Pagans ( also Wiccan and/or Neo-pagan, Druids etc. depending on title) call this holiday the Summer Solstice.
Litha is usually celebrated on June 21st, but varies somewhat from the 20th to the 23rd, dependant upon the Earth’s rotation around the Sun. According to the old folklore calendar, Summer begins on Beltane (May 1st) and ends on Lughnassadh (August 1st), with the Summer Solstice midway between the two, marking MID-Summer. This makes more logical sense than suggesting that Summer begins on the day when the Sun’s power begins to wane and the days grow shorter. The most common other names for this holiday are the Summer Solstice or Midsummer, and it celebrates the arrival of Summer, when the hours of daylight are longest. The Sun is now at the highest point before beginning its slide into darkness.
Humanity has been celebrating Litha and the triumph of light since ancient times. On the Wheel of the Year Litha lies directly across from Yule, the shortest day of the calendar year, that cold and dark winter turning when days begin to lengthen and humanity looks wistfully toward warmth, sunlight and growing things. Although Litha and Yule are low holidays or lesser sabats in the ancient parlance, they are celebrated with more revel and merriment than any other day on the wheel except perhaps Samhain (my own favourite). The joyous rituals of Litha celebrate the verdant Earth in high summer, abundance, fertility, and all the riches of Nature in full bloom. This is a madcap time of strong magic and empowerment, traditionally the time for handfasting or weddings and for communication with the spirits of Nature. At Litha, the veils between the worlds are thin; the portals between “the fields we know” and the worlds beyond stand open. This is an excellent time for rites of divination.
Those who celebrated Litha did so wearing garlands or crowns of flowers, and of course, their millinery always included the yellow blossoms of St. John’s Wort. The Litha rites of the ancients were boisterous communal festivities with morris dancing, singing, storytelling, pageantry and feasting taking place by the village bonfire and torch lit processions through the villages after dark. People believed that the Litha fires possessed great power, and that prosperity and protection for oneself and one’s clan could be earned merely by jumping over the Litha bonfire. It was also common for courting couples joined hands and jump over the embers of the Litha fire three times to ensure a long and happy marriage, financial prosperity and many children. Even the charred embers from the Litha bonfire possessed protective powers – they were charms against injury and bad wwweather in harvest time, and embers were commonly placed around fields of grain and orchards to protect the crops and ensure an abundant reaping. Other Litha customs included carrying an ember of the Litha fire home and placing it on one’s hearth and decking one’s home with birch, fennel, St. John’s Wort, orpin, and white lilies for blessing and protection.
The Litha Sabbat is a time to celebrate both work and leisure, it is a time for children and childlike play. It is a time to celebrate the ending of the waxing year and the beginning of the waning year, in preparation for the harvest to come. Midsummer is a time to absorb the Sun’s warming rays and it is another fertility Sabbat, not only for humans, but also for crops and animals. Wiccans consider the Goddess to be heavy with pregnancy from the mating at Beltane – honor is given to Her. The Sun God is celebrated as the Sun is at its peak in the sky and we celebrate His approaching fatherhood – honor is also given to Him. The faeries abound at this time and it is customary to leave offerings – such as food or herbs – for them in the evening.
Although Litha may seem at first glance to be a masculine observance and one which focuses on Lugh, the day is also dedicated to the Goddess, and Her flowers are the white blossoms of the elder.
Rededication to the Lord and Lady, beginning of the harvest, honoring the Sun God,
honoring the pregnant Godddess
Crowning of the Sun God, death of the Oak King, assumption of the Holly King,
end the ordeal of the Green Man
Tools, Symbols & Decorations
The sun, oak, birch & fir branches, sun flowers, lilies, red/maize/yellow or gold flower, love amulets, seashells, summer fruits & flowers, feather/flower door wreath, sun wheel, fire, circles of stone, sun dials and swords/blades, bird feathers, Witches’ ladder.
Blue, green, gold, yellow and red.
Bonfires, processions, all night vigil, singing, feasting, celebrating with others, cutting
divining rods, dowsing rods & wands, herb gathering, handfastings, weddings, Druidic
gathering of mistletoe in oak groves, needfires, leaping between two fires, mistletoe
(without berries, use as a protection amulet), women walking naked through gardens
to ensure continued fertility, enjoying the seasonal fruits & vegetables, honor the
Mother’s fullness, richness and abundance, put garlands of St. John’s Wort placed
over doors/ windows & a sprig in the car for protection.
Mother Earth, Mother Nature, Venus, Aphrodite, Yemaya, Astarte, Freya, Hathor,
Ishtar, all Goddesses of love, passion, beauty and the Sea, and Pregnant,
lusty Goddesses, Green Forest Mother; Great One of the Stars, Goddess of the Wells
Father Sun/Sky, Oak King, Holly King, Arthur, Gods at peak power and strength.
Wren, robin, horses, cattle, satyrs, faeries, firebird, dragon, thunderbird
Lapis lazuli, diamond, tiger’s eye, all green gemstones, especially emerald and jade
Anise, mugwort, chamomile, rose, wild rose, oak blossoms, lily, cinquefoil, lavender,
fennel, elder, mistletoe, hemp, thyme, larkspur, nettle, wisteria, vervain ( verbena),
St. John’s wort, heartsease, rue, fern, wormwood, pine,heather, yarrow,
oak & holly trees
Heliotrope, saffron, orange, frankincense & myrrh, wisteria, cinnamon, mint, rose, lemon, lavender, sandalwood, pine
Nature spirit/fey communion, planet healing, divination, love & protection magicks.
The battle between Oak King, God of the waxing year & Holly King, God of the waning
year (can be a ritual play), or act out scenes from the Bard’s (an incarnation of Merlin)
“A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, rededication of faith, rites of inspiration.
Honey, fresh vegetables, lemons, oranges, summer fruits, summer squash,
pumpernickel bread, ale, carrot drinks, mead.
Our family is very blessed, you see today is my Mom’s birthday, my birthday and little Devon’s birthday as well. # different generations of birthdays in the same family- pretty cool hmmm?
I wished my Mom a happy birthday- i sent a message on the wings of the wind, for you see my Mom is no longer with me, after a courageous battle with cancer, she has left this world to start a new adventure she has NOT however left me, for she is a part of me, everyday, her love lives on within me, oh I miss her, terribly as a matter of fact, today is tough without her, but it is also tough on my brothers and sisters as well- she was not just an amazing “Mom” but a person, in whom’s presence is missed daily.
Today though is a celebration of life- and my MOM gave me life- and because of her she also gave little Devon life as well, a birthday my little nephew and I share. So this posting is for you Devon
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEVON
LOVE YOU- AUNTIE ~T~
|North American Poetry Award Winner
Discussion Forum – North American Poetry Association 2005 Award Winner.
|Message boards / Arts and Literature forum / North American Poetry Association 2005 Award Winner|
|trfanclub||July 20, 7:26 PM
Copy of Article from the “poetry readings” newsletter. Way to go Tilly!
North American Poetry Association
Her poem “Fear” has been printed in over four thousand poetry magazines, newsletters and various poetry books across the United States and was voted the best poem in 2005.
This is not an easy accomplishment, not only did she win the 2005 napa award against an amazing competition of superb talent of over five hundred thousand poems printed this year. For the first time ever in poetic written history for the napa the same author has placed first two years in a row. It is with great honor that the name “Tilly Rivers” is engraved in the napa plaque and proudly displayed in our hall for the second year running.
We were sorry when she advised us that she was not able to attend the ceremony this year due to personal circumstances, her charisma and presence was greatly missed by many of her peers and fans alike because of her natural ability not only with written literary talent but also with her inborn aptitude to draw people.
Once again, congratulations Tilly. It is our great pleasure to be blessed with the gift of written charm that you bestow upon us.
As SEEN in Wisteria Moon, by Tilly Rivers. © this story, and picture are copyright protected by international copyright law.
“Wisteria Robe” is one of the short stories taken from Wisteria Moon, please note, this story contains explicit sexual content and language that may offend some readers.
He went to the altar, laid his hand upon the stone and closed his eyes, calling the Wisteria Witch….
He watched the group of men and women gathered around the stone altar and breathed in the singing air of anticipation of what was to come.
The blanket of night and fog billowed around them like a mystic covering from the outside world.
The mist-formed shapes left impressions of embracing lovers. The ebony sky glimmered with an aura of power and waited for her presence.
The legend of the Wisteria Witch and her robe ceremony was deeply embedded in her homeland.
The tale of the sexual ritual of a witch, a high priestess with profound powers, was whispered among the natives in equal parts of fear and awe.
Few truly witnessed the sacred ceremony.
The ones that did witness kept its secrets.
The whispered chants of her name floated in the air. The goddess they all sought and feared. She was pure, raw sexuality manifested.
The willow and rowan swayed softly in unison with their partner zephyr. Leaf, branch, and wind merged under the moon performing nature’s own sexual rite.
He was uncertain of what to expect within the folds of the wisteria robe ceremony. He only knew that he was meant to be here. He felt the calling; the pull that tonight would alter his life and he welcomed the change.
He stood with pride and confidence under the soft velvet folds of the wisteria robe. The material stimulated your naked flesh; tiny life-like sparks caressed you everywhere at once, molding to your frame, worshipping you.
Naked glimpses of bodies teased the senses everywhere you looked. Hard nipples of women pushed enticingly against the caressing robes. Secret shadows and soft moans were hints of urgent passion flaring.
The hoods of the robes covered the guests’ faces adding to the aura of secrecy and sensual mystery unlike any other.
He was part of the semicircle around the back of the altar, yet felt apart. Tonight he would be the chosen one to touch her. He knew it because he felt the call and waited.
The mist flared higher, changing their frantic pose, colors mixed with the transparent miasma.
She was close. Her presence was felt before her form appeared. Currents of sweetness bred. His body tingled with sensation as the robe altered from light touches to excited petting motions, opening the full breadth and beauty of the sensual.
His body eased with joyful sensation, letting the robe and his surroundings touch him in ecstasy. From his inner core, an inside flame ignited to an overwhelming energy of linked spiritual lust.
Each body became combined to one. A current of pure lust, massage of heat, a force, as desire and passion expanded from the inside to the outside covering of flesh. Power. Raw hunger of each thought, each caress, each sensation of the group now one.
Cardinal desire fused heightened feelings of need until they no longer were a mass but one sensation of savage sexual essence.
Soft blue flickers of breath formed a ring of fire around her ankles. Worshipping, feeding.
Her gown was transparent, violet threads of glimmered nothing, touching her curves like a waterfall of desire. The garment split down the front of her being, drawing your attention to each secret tease of her body.
Her hair flowed loose, tickling the back of her neck and shoulders. The soft blue flames of luminous light flowed as she walked. Each step of pure blue flame floated around her, disappearing only to reappear again as each step glided closer to the altar and the gathered pagans that had come.
The night of the wisteria robe.
The night of the wisteria witch.
No one moved as the ring of blue circled behind his or her body. No one moved, as the flames grew higher, alive. The flame ring crackled with vitality, forming a complete circle around them.
He thought about the flame and that there was no heat.
She turned to him with a tiny wisp of a smile. Her voiceless words echoed softly in his mind. “No heat?”
His body instantly withered with intense desire, need, and cravings of sexual release. “No earthly heat,” he corrected instantly and her smile widened before reducing the erotic torture.
Pausing at the stone altar she slowly slid her fingers under the violet strands of her gown. Instantly, hands of creatures not seen before, were there to remove the garment. He watched the small creatures, her slaves, with fascinated interest.
Small, almost troll-like beings swarmed her. Here, gone instantly. Conjured images.
Hundreds burst into the circle surrounding her naked form, fingers caressing and pulling at her body. She pet them with tenderness as one would a beloved dog or cat.
One was braver, or the leader. He placed his hand on her smooth mound. His finger rammed inside her folds. Her head snapped back. The wind carried the scream of her moan to every watching pagan. The jolt of sensation she was feeling quivered in each of them.
Moans filled the air, echoing her gasps. Her body twisted in shared ecstasy.
He stood transfixed as he watched the creatures touch her. He felt his skin tingle, indents of invisible fingers moved along his burning body. Every touch, every burning caress upon her flesh was transcended onto each of the worshippers.
Standing within the ring of fire he watched as the creatures lifted her reverently unto the altar. She waved her fingers to them and smiled.
Each creature went to the guests, removing the robes. Her commands rolled silently, a melody of desire calling to her pets. She spoke to them as to whom she would be choosing this night.
The chant of “me” rang out. Silent pleads in their minds. Linked thoughts.
“Me. Let the wisteria witch choose me.”
Each had a deep-rooted appetite to be the one. “Me.” The voices grew louder, more urgent and he heard his own voice mingled with the others. “Me,” he begged, “Please me.”
The creature came closer to him and he smiled. Yes. Yes.
The imp looked up and smiled back only to take the hand of the female next to him. A shudder went through the crowd, equal parts disappointment at not being the chosen one mixed with excitement.
They all knew that with each sensation that the wisteria witch felt, they too would feel. Each touch, each soft gasp would vibrate to their very core and burn inside their flesh.
He watched as the eager chosen one ran to the altar to worship the witch lying there. He watched and felt the chosen one’s lips kiss the sole of the witch’s feet, waiting for permission to touch her.
The crowd waited in awe as the witch gave a small nod of her head giving the chosen female permission to continue.
His flesh quivered as the chosen one’s tongue licked up the witch’s calf to her inner thigh and finally to her pulsating wet pussy.
They all tasted her as the chosen one was, like the nectar of heaven.
*If you wish to continue reading this story, please drop me a line and I will send you a pdf copy of the complete story.