After the clutter of Christmas is cleared away
And shops are shorn of lurid displays,
Now, outside,
there’s a stirring in the trees
As merry
music leads
Us along familiar
ways
Into the old
orchard, ablaze
With flickering
torchlight
And a brazier
of fire, burning bright.
Pots and
pans are clanged
And shotguns
banged:
Decluttering
the trees of lingering malignants;
Replacing
them with little lighted lanterns
And pieces
of dunked and drunken toast
For Robin,
the good-fellow, to make the most
As we raise
our voices in joyful boasts:
‘Ere’s to thee - Old Apple Tree!
With wreaths
of evergreen leaves
A Wassail
King and Queen are crowned
And the Loving
Cup is passed around
Overflowing
with hot mulled cider
Bringing
warmth and cheer inside as
We, outdoors,
in the darkness of night
And the frosty
grip of winter’s might,
Stand
together to treasure and appease
The cold and
naked apples trees
And wish good
health to them:
In root and fruit,
in branch and stem.
And so enjoining
one another
To make
merry in Midwinter
And celebrating
the bond between bark and skin
We hope, once
more, the trees will bring -
In autumn
after summer after spring -
(As much as we
give to them in our Wassailing)
So then,
again, at Apple-Time we may all share
The wealth of
the orchard: many an apple & many a pear!
Waes Hael!! Drinc Hael!!
