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Re: [ticket2write] Re: Beltane Birthday Blessings for Carol (Wings)

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  • Carol Carpenter
    Dear Wings, Me thinks you imbibed a wee bit of Irish spirit (or a load of Blarney), bumped your head on those old grey standing stones , and had a bad dream.
    Message 1 of 3 , May 2, 2005
      Dear Wings,
      Me thinks you imbibed a wee bit of Irish spirit (or a load of Blarney), bumped your head on those "old grey standing stones", and had a bad dream. Your hallucination is very vivid with wonderful embellishments, especially the Elvis tune, you "Hound Dog", Damien, and the rarely occurring twenty-three year old virgin. Nice story. You certainly can spin a yarn.

      wings081 <no_reply@yahoogroups.com> wrote:
      Dear Carol.

      Carol, you would not treat this subject lightly if you lived among
      the Celts in Cornwall.
      Let me tell you a story of a midnight incident I witnessed some
      years ago in an area not more the five miles from my home, on the
      outskirts of Newquay.
      This place, an old monastery, has always been renowned for its
      association with Wicca.
      I accepted this and thought it harmless games of white witches; sad
      middle aged housewives dressing up in robes and chanting as they
      danced much the same as the Druids of old.
      Their husbands were most likely carousing at the golf club so why
      shouldn't they have a little fun of their own.
      This particular night however was rather different and shook me to
      the core.
      Cruising gently down the hill from St Columb Minor, humming along
      with Elvis to `Love me tender', I was surprised to see floods
      of light in a grassy opening among the trees behind the old
      Being of an inquisitive nature, I pulled off the road on to the
      grass verge and got out of my car to investigate.
      I climbed over the boundary hedge and crept closer, to discover the
      light emanated from a circle of cars facing inwards with dipped
      headlights illuminating the space inside the circle with the
      brilliance of day.
      In the centre of this circle stood two 45 gallon oil drums about
      five feet apart, on top of which was a wide plank of wood some six
      feet long.
      The night took on an eerie ambience, made more so with the mournful
      hooting of screech owls as the gathering males and females chanted
      and danced around what was now obvious to me an altar.
      If it hadn't been so weird, I would have marvelled at the
      costumes of the dancers.
      The wizards in purple satin lined velvet capes and the witches or
      nymphs in dazzling white. Most wore masks, some of which only
      covered the eyes and I fancy I recognised one or two of these but I
      couldn't be sure until two nymphs dragged a young girl from one
      of the parked vehicles. She was completely naked and offered little
      resistance as she was taken to the altar and prostrated on top of
      the wooden slab.
      This girl I did recognise. It was the twenty three year old daughter
      of my bank manager.A quiet girl of whom you might say "butter
      wouldn't melt in her mouth" Pretty with it too, long golden hair
      cascading over her shoulders.
      So this May 1st was to be celebrated by the de-flowering of a virgin
      but which one of the wizards had been allotted the honour. I was
      soon to discover for, at the base of the `altar', was a pile of
      brushwood I hadn't noticed earlier, but now understood; It was
      the Beltane, the sacrificial bonfire of the Celtic festival on May
      The fire was ignited and I was overcome with the heady exotic
      perfume of incense.
      Nobody moved towards the altar but suddenly there was a crash of
      thunder and  the fire erupted into a flash of such brilliance I had
      to avert my gaze.
      When I looked again the fire had gone and in its place was a satyr
      with devil's horns and the hairy legs of a goat with cloven
      The chanting resumed with the congrgation waving their arms high and
      uttering incantations which were as foreign to me then as they are
      The satyr approached the altar and performed sex with the girl, who
      gave no resistance, writhing with his thrusts.
      When he had finished he looked around at the assembly, now bowing
      before him. In his hand he had a curved knife with what appeared to
      be two parallel curved blades with jagged edges. He walked twice
      around the sacrificial altar, stoppd at the head and finally plunged
      the blade deep into the girl's breast.He then raised his head in my
      direction. His eyes were burning red as he became aware of my
      existence. From the pupils shot a beam like a laser as he met my
      I was transfixed, unable to move a muscle when suddenly there was
      another brilliant flash and he/it was gone. I fell to the ground in
      a daze and when I came round there was nothing. No cars, no witches,
      no wizards and no altar.
      I may have been hallucinating that May 1st but I know what I saw.

      Incidentally, the girl is now married with a baby son whom she has
      named Damien.

      As always


      --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, Carol Carpenter
      <carol_emt87@y...> wrote:
      > Dear Jerry,
      > Here's how the day went.
      > Let's see, "bathe in the dew of the cup of hawthorn
      Hawthorn tree? I think I got one of those around here somewhere.
      Where the heck is that darn tree? Ah, down by the beaver pond,
      gotcha. Okay, gather up my willow wand, some lavender and incense,
      few twigs for a small fire. Put on my hooded robe and head down the
      deer trail in the dark. No moon this night, so I must be careful of
      the thorns trees. Oh drat, a skunk, walk softly and
      got little ones. Yikes! There she goes, thank goodness!
      > Clear a small patch of ground and lay the fire. Matches, matches,
      where the heck are my matches? Swell, guess what I forgot! Trekking
      back to the house, I stumble into a briar patch, fumble my way
      between the thorn trees, tear my robe and gash my thigh. Wonderful,
      now I'm bleeding! Ouch! Almost there now, oh crap, there's
      skunk family again. OH NO!! Bathed in the dew of the ��. Yuck!!
      > Maybe next year, I'll cast that spell to purify and thank the
      goddess. Right now, I'm rather pungent. So I'm opting to
      juice and sleeping in the garage. Sniff, sniff.
      > Carol
      > Actually all these events are fictitious. The day was chilly,
      windy, and wonderful. Just thought I'd have a little fun. Silly
      > Jerry <jerry5849@y...> wrote:Beltane Birthday
      > May Day blessings one and all
      > Listen to the goddess call
      > Many hearts thawed by her call
      > Beltane blessings one and all
      > Carol is a winsome lass
      > Watching winter's harshness pass
      > Springtime's moment come to pass
      > Once again the birthday lass
      > Wisdom rests upon her brow
      > As the blossom on the bough
      > Gentle winds blow through the bough
      > Blessed the warm rain on her brow
      > Magic days must follow this
      > Like the warmth of one's first kiss
      > And like lips meeting in the kiss
      > Blissful nights must follow this
      > May Day blessings one and all
      > Listen to the goddess call
      > Many hearts thawed by her call
      > Beltane blessings one and all
      > JK Saylor
      > 4-26-05
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