Poetry

A gypsy fire is on the hearth, Sign of the carnival of mirth; Through the dun fields and from the glade Flash merry folk in masquerade, For this is Hallowe’en! ~Author Unknown

I have been your King. You bowed to my every wish And asked what more you could do To make me feel worshipped. I have been your Warrior. Standing guard, taking psychic blows But lies make for poor armor So I defected. I have been your Lover. Brief periods of intense heat Seperated by cool

Tarot Augury We shuffle the Tarot and cut the cards thrice, to learn and to grow from their sage advice. What tell the cards We lay on the table? We ask in regards To our life’s fable. Whom do we follow Trump, court, or pip, when we embark on the hallowed journey of Seership? What