There’s a magic in this long-sun day.
Starts before the chime of six and stays
Until the dusk of night  at ten or so.
Hours move easy  time to work & play.  

Not so, the shortest day full of cold,
Dark and no promises. Work not
Finished, play hides and cannot start.
Shrivels the world, hides the heart.  

Pagans gave our sun its due, if we were
Smart we would too for it warms us,
Feeds us, commands the winds and rain.
We cheer and celebrate this longest day,
A gift to share and revel, a day to trust.