Pagans
At sundown
In midsummer
When the trees are rich with leaves
They light bonfires
And form circles
For the night sky and the trees
And they sway in the twilight
To the pounding of the drums
And they dance round the bonfires
Waiting for the Gods to come
At midnight
In the darkness
They lay in the grass
And they call out
Songs of yearning,
As they watch the darkness pass
And they sway in the twilight
To the pounding of the drums
And they dance round the bonfires
Waiting for the Gods to come