Monday, January 14, 2013

Imbolc Giveaway

As promised on my last giveaway, I am doing another one for Imbolc. There will not be as much time to enter since Imbolc is not too far off and I want to make sure the winner has their pretties in time.

Below is what will be in the giveaway:

  • One $20.00 Cyber Gift Certificate
  • Brigid's Cross
  • 1/2 Ounce of Dried Juniper Tips
  • 1/2 Ounce of Three Sacred Fires Incense
  • Pair of Beeswax Home Blessing Candles
  • Square of Hand-Dyed Linen
  • Rowan Wood & Red Thread {to make a Rowan Cross}

$20.00 Cyber Gift Certificate
{cyber gift certificate example}
I will email a cyber gift certificate of $20.00 {CDN/US} value to the winner which can be used either purchase from my Etsy store or to purchase services on my website. {$20.00 CDN/US value}
Brigid's Cross
I purchased this Brigid's Cross from a crafter in Ireland. It is approximately 6 inches and is made with reeds. One side has been glazed for protection {by the maker} and the side that is pictured is natural. Hang in your home for protection or place on your shrine/altar dedicated to Brigid {the Goddess or Saint}. {$15.00 CDN/US value}
Dried Juniper Tips

This common juniper{Juniperus communis} was wildcrafted by myself. I am including in this giveaway, as it was traditionally used for blessings and purification {saining} in some Gaelic speaking places. It could be added to water for blessing or burnt as an incense during you Imbolc purification and blessing rituals. The winner will receive a half ounce in a re-sealable baggie. {$4.00 CDN/US value}
Three Sacred Fires Incense

My Three Sacred Fires incense, is a blend that I made to be burnt as a devotional offering to Brigid. It contains various ingredients such as heather flowers, motherwort, lady's mantle, rowan berries and cedarwood {partial ingredient list}. The winner will receive a half ounce in a re-sealable baggie.{$4.75 CDN/US value}
Beeswax Home Blessing Candles


These are candles that I make for home blessing for both personal and client use. They were hand-dipped by myself using premium local beeswax and contain rowan protection oil {unscented}, nettle leaves, meadowsweet, lemon balm, hawthorn leaves, and elder flowers {all the plant materials were grown or harvested by me}. The winner will receive a pair of these rustic pretties. {$7.00 CDN/US value}
Hand-Dyed Linen

I hand-dyed this linen a while back for magical purposes, using various plant materials and is suitable for pretty much any type of working. I am including it in this giveaway as I thought that it would make a great brat Bríde, but could also be used for other things such as poppets or charm bags. The winner will receive a square that is approximately 9 inches. {$1.50 CDN/US value}
Rowan Wood & Red Thread

The wee rowan twigs were wildcrafted by myself and the thread was left out to be blessed last Imbolc. I am including them in the giveaway so the winner can make their own rowan cross, which could be hung over the doorway for protection and blessings {the Tairis website has a ritual outline here.}.
How to Enter the Giveaway
Since Brigid is often associated with poetry, I thought that this would be a good way to celebrate this part of Her. In the comment section, share a favourite poem or one that you wrote {please be sure to give proper credit if it is written by someone else!}. The winner will be drawn at random right after the closing date. Below you will see all the vitals:
  1. Only one entry per person.
  2. Entrants must be 18 years or older.
  3. The giveaway is open for all countries.
  4. To enter you must submit your poem in the comment section, otherwise I can't guarantee that I will see it.
  5. To enter you are not obligated to purchase anything from me or to subscribe to any of my social media haunts.
  6. All entries must be submitted by Monday January 21st, 2013 at 3pm EST.
  7. The winner will need to provide a mailing address to receive their pretties. The
    information provided will not be used for any other purpose than to receive their winnings. The information will not be given to anyone else, or sold to a third party.


Good luck! :)



  1. Exalted One,
    Blessed Keeper of the Well,
    Giver of Inspiration,
    Weaving words into a spell.
    Stirring the cauldron
    Lighting the flame
    Raising the power
    All in your name.
    Lady Brigid of my heart,
    Bless me this holy day
    As the Sun returns
    and Winter's chill led astray.

    -Fawn Russell

  2. Candles
    Days to come stand in front of us,
    like a row of burning candles -
    golden, warm, and vivid candles.

    Days past fall behind us,
    a gloomy line of burnt-out candles;
    the nearest are still smoking,
    cold, melted, and bent.

    I don't want to look at them: their shape saddens me,
    and it saddens me to remember their original light.
    I look ahead at my burning candles.

    I don't want to turn, don't want to see, terrified,
    how quickly that dark line gets longer,
    how quickly one more dead candle joins another.

    Constantine P. Cavafy

  3. Blessed Brigid of the flame. Holy is thy holy name.
    Warmth of fire, steel and coal, Brigid, fair lady of all.
    Blessed Brigid of the flame. Holy is thy holy name.
    Music of the words to be, forged with your energy.
    Blessed Brigid of the flame. Holy is thy holy name
    For your warmth is in our hearts. Brigid welcome here.

    By: the witch nextdoor.

  4. A fine little magpie mocks me once.
    I chuckle and give a sad smile.
    But as I walk away, I have to say,
    I did not see the other.

    Two for Mirth,
    By Me :D

  5. We met as Sparks—Diverging Flints
    Sent various—scattered ways—
    We parted as the Central Flint
    Were cloven with an Adze—
    Subsisting on the Light We bore
    Before We felt the Dark—
    A Flint unto this Day—perhaps—
    But for that single Spark.

    -emily dickinson

  6. Whose woods these are I think I know.
    His house is in the village though;
    He will not see me stopping here
    To watch his woods fill up with snow.

    My little horse must think it queer
    To stop without a farmhouse near
    Between the woods and frozen lake
    The darkest evening of the year.

    He gives his harness bells a shake
    To ask if there is some mistake.
    The only other sound's the sweep
    Of easy wind and downy flake.

    The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
    But I have promises to keep,
    And miles to go before I sleep,
    And miles to go before I sleep.

    -Robert Frost

  7. "We're waiting by the willow
    Our milky milky cradle
    Our lockets long have rusted
    His picture worn and weathered
    Our hair is in the garden
    The roses in our toeses
    Our heart are in the blossoms
    Our eyes are in the branches"

    CocoRosie ( do songs lyrics work ? :3 )

  8. You could never believe I was more than your shadow. - margaret atwood

  9. And then the flowers

    They all fall down

    They dance around and they all fall down

    The stars they glide

    And the fairies fly

    We all fall down




    To the ground

    Pushed to the soil




    And when the dirt fills our ears

    Covers our brains, smothers our fears

    When our bodies are in the earth

    We will have peace

  10. A breeze touches my mind
    And lends to me its strength
    As I walk into the darkness
    Of a forest hidden in shadow.

    I feel the earth tremble beneath
    Its power so potent and strong
    The energy rises inside me
    To meet the challenge to come.

    I walk further into the darkness
    To find the cavernous heart
    Nature is my spirit twin
    My heart beats to its rhythm.

    For the magic held within these woods
    Is older than the oldest
    Primal and ancient it calls
    I heed, I join, I know.

    Embraced within her natural womb
    The darkness is no longer frightening
    As I meld my mind and spirit
    I feel its call to me, its pull.

    To be within this earthy womb
    Is to feel like coming home
    To know that within this place
    I will find who I am.

  11. A Jedge in the West comin from the South
    with ruby sideburns, boy –
    Always usin flowery languij –
    The grim fightin hero's troubles
    are always private –
    He wants to know where "I fit in"
    in herd wars –
    Sometimes you see villains so ancient
    you saw them in infancy
    exaggerating in snow
    their mustaches looking older
    than yr father's grave –
    "Thanks Marshall" – "I reckon"
    I guess I better run on back
    to Whiskey Row, Colorada,
    & marry an old Tim McCoy Gal
    or turn off the tele vision, one –

    You gotta go a long way in the West
    to find a good man –
    So close the book,
    The Courier, run by Steve, is a paper
    wearing a sunbonnet.
    Drive the cattle thru that silver wall,
    help ladies to their hearse,
    mouth in the sun,
    That oughta do till Mexican Drygulcher
    finds Redwing in the Shack
    And Kwakiutls menstruate
    Old Horses' necks by broken fences,
    guns gone rust
    I guess the gang got shot.

    Kid Dream
    In the leaves.

    April 1958, Northport.

    -Old Western Movies
    by: Jack Kerouac

  12. This here is one of my favorite Icelandic songs, that reminds me of the return of spring:

    Ó hve létt er þitt skóhljóð
    ó hve leingi ég beið þín,
    það er vorhret á glugga,
    napur vindur sem hvín,
    en ég veit eina stjörnu,
    eina stjörnu sem skín,
    og nú loks ertu komin,
    þú ert komin til mín.


    Oh how light are your steps
    Oh how long I have waited
    There is snow on the window
    A bitter wind that howls
    But I know of a star
    A star that shines
    And at last you are here
    You are here with me

  13. One of my favorites is from the lovey Edna St. Vincent Millay:

    My candle burns at both ends;
    It will not last the night;
    But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--
    It gives a lovely light!

  14. written too my totem

    I am the Owl women

    Once youthful and Lovely

    Now aged and wise.

    I sacrificed my false beauty

    Upon the alter of sovereignty

    and gained my wings.

    No longer rooted

    to the spot shall i be!

    Now i fly free upon my wings!

    I looked at my reflection

    and was able to smile

    in satisfaction.

  15. ( By Lady Gueneva


    In a glass
    Of scryer's black
    Visions of life
    Bring full impact

    Wells pour out
    Your sacred flame
    Prophetic words
    In wisdom's name

    The womb impregnated
    With poetic rhyme
    Birthed to life
    In seasons time

    In your healing light
    Be with me on
    This moonstruck night

  16. By Emily Bronte, How beautiful the Earth is still

    How beautiful the Earth is still
    To thee–how full of Happiness;
    How little fraught with real ill
    Or shadowy phantoms of distress;
    How Spring can bring thee glory yet
    And Summer win thee to forget
    December's sullen time!
    Why dost thou hold the treasure fast
    Of youth's delight, when youth is past
    And thou art near thy prime?

    When those who were thy own compeers,
    Equal in fortunes and in years,
    Have seen their morning melt in tears,
    To dull unlovely day;
    Blest, had they died unproved and young
    Before their hearts were wildly wrung,
    Poor slaves, subdued by passions strong,
    A weak and helpless prey!

    "Because, I hoped while they enjoyed,
    And by fulfilment, hope destroyed
    As children hope, with trustful breast,
    I waited Bliss and cherished Rest.

    "A thoughtful Spirit taught me soon
    That we must long till life be done;
    That every phase of earthly joy
    Will always fade and always cloy--

    "This I foresaw, and would not chase
    The fleeting treacheries,
    But with firm foot and tranquil face
    Held backward from the tempting race,
    Gazed o'er the sands the waves efface
    To the enduring seas–

    "There cast my anchor of Desire
    Deep in unknown Eternity;
    Nor ever let my Spirit tire
    With looking for What is to be.

    "It is Hope's spell that glorifies
    Like youth to my maturer eyes
    All Nature's million mysteries--
    The fearful and the fair–

    "Hope soothes me in the griefs I know,
    She lulls my pain for others' woe
    And makes me strong to undergo
    What I am born to bear.
    "Glad comforter, will I not brave
    Unawed the darkness of the grave?
    Nay, smile to hear Death's billows rave,
    My Guide, sustained by thee?

    The more unjust seems present fate
    The more my Spirit springs elate
    Strong in thy strength, to anticipate
    Rewarding Destiny!

  17. River Roads
    Let the crows go by hawking their caw and caw.
    They have been swimming in midnights of coal mines somewhere.
    Let 'em hawk their caw and caw.

    Let the woodpecker drum and drum on a hickory stump.
    He has been swimming in red and blue pools somewhere
    hundreds of years.
    And the blue has gone to his wings and the red has gone to
    his head.
    Let his red head drum and drum.
    Let the dark pools hold the birds in a looking-glass.
    And if the pool wishes, let it shiver to the blur of many wings, old swimmers from old places.

    Let the redwing streak a line of vermillion on the green
    wood lines.
    And the mist along the river fix its purple in lines of a woman's
    shawl on lazy shoulders.

    -Carl Sanburg

  18. i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
    my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
    i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
    by only me is your doing,my darling)

    i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
    no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
    and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
    and whatever a sun will always sing is you

    here is the deepest secret nobody knows
    (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
    and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
    higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
    and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

    i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

    - e. e. cummings

  19. Until the days are short
    And my lies still,

    I rest in fields of Gold

    The luxurious air
    Where countenance keeps,

    I sit in fields of Yellow

    There is not a soul left to see
    Alone to enjoy seldom silence,

    I stand in fields of Wheat

    No where to sleep
    They continue to grow,

    I walk from fields of Shadows

  20. Thank you for having this contest!

    I hope that it is ok for my pick to be a song. Antlered Crown and Standing Stone by Damh the Bard


  21. This is the one song everyone
    would like to learn: the song
    that is irresistible:

    the song that forces men
    to leap overboard in squadrons
    even though they see beached skulls

    the song nobody knows
    because anyone who had heard it
    is dead, and the others can’t remember.
    Shall I tell you the secret
    and if I do, will you get me
    out of this bird suit?
    I don’t enjoy it here
    squatting on this island
    looking picturesque and mythical
    with these two feathery maniacs,
    I don’t enjoy singing
    this trio, fatal and valuable.

    I will tell the secret to you,
    to you, only to you.
    Come closer. This song

    is a cry for help: Help me!
    Only you, only you can,
    you are unique

    at last. Alas
    it is a boring song
    but it works every time.

    -Margaret Atwood

  22. Three years she grew in sun and shower,
    Then Nature said, "A lovelier flower
    On earth was never sown;
    This Child I to myself will take;
    She shall be mine, and I will make
    A Lady of my own.

    "Myself will to my darling be
    Both law and impulse: and with me
    The Girl, in rock and plain,
    In earth and heaven, in glade and bower,
    Shall feel an overseeing power
    To kindle or restrain.

    "She shall be sportive as the fawn
    That wild with glee across the lawn
    Or up the mountain springs;
    And hers shall be the breathing balm,
    And hers the silence and the calm
    Of mute insensate things.

    "The floating clouds their state shall lend
    To her; for her the willow bend;
    Nor shall she fail to see
    Even in the motions of the Storm
    Grace that shall mould the Maiden's form
    By silent sympathy.

    "The stars of midnight shall be dear
    To her; and she shall lean her ear
    In many a secret place
    Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
    And beauty born of murmuring sound
    Shall pass into her face.

    "And vital feelings of delight
    Shall rear her form to stately height,
    Her virgin bosom swell;
    Such thoughts to Lucy I will give
    While she and I together live
    Here in this happy dell."

    Thus Nature spake—The work was done—
    How soon my Lucy's race was run!
    She died, and left to me
    This heath, this calm and quiet scene;
    The memory of what has been,
    And never more will be.

    - William Wordsworth

  23. My favorite poem is Neil Gaiman's "Instructions" simply because it has the power to make me read it in Neil's voice, every time I read it. It goes like this:

    "Touch the wooden gate in the wall you never
    saw before.
    Say "please" before you open the latch,
    go through,
    walk down the path.
    A red metal imp hangs from the green-painted
    front door,
    as a knocker,
    do not touch it; it will bite your fingers.
    Walk through the house. Take nothing. Eat nothing.
    However, if any creature tells you that it hungers,
    feed it.
    If it tells you that it is dirty,
    clean it.
    If it cries to you that it hurts,
    if you can,
    ease its pain.
    From the back garden you will be able to see the
    wild wood.
    The deep well you walk past leads to Winter's realm;
    there is another land at the bottom of it.
    If you turn around here,
    you can walk back, safely;
    you will lose no face. I will think no less of you.
    Once through the garden you will be in the wood.
    The trees are old. Eyes peer from the under-growth.
    Beneath a twisted oak sits an old woman. She
    may ask for something;
    give it to her. She
    will point the way to the castle.
    Inside it are three princesses.
    Do not trust the youngest. Walk on.
    In the clearing beyond the castle the twelve
    months sit about a fire,
    warming their feet, exchanging tales.
    They may do favors for you, if you are polite.
    You may pick strawberries in December's frost.
    Trust the wolves, but do not tell them where
    you are going.
    The river can be crossed by the ferry. The ferry-man will take you.
    The answer to his question is this:
    If he hands the oar to his passenger, he will be free to
    leave the boat. Only tell him this from a safe distance.)
    If an eagle gives you a feather, keep it safe.
    Remember: that giants sleep too soundly; that
    witches are often betrayed by their appetites;
    dragons have one soft spot, somewhere, always;
    hearts can be well-hidden,
    and you betray them with your tongue.
    Do not be jealous of your sister.
    Know that diamonds and roses
    are as uncomfortable when they tumble from
    one's lips as toads and frogs:
    colder, too, and sharper, and they cut.
    Remember your name.
    Do not lose hope — what you seek will be found.
    Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped
    to help you in their turn.
    Trust dreams.
    Trust your heart, and trust your story.
    When you come back, return the way you came.
    Favors will be returned, debts will be repaid.
    Do not forget your manners.
    Do not look back.
    Ride the wise eagle (you shall not fall).
    Ride the silver fish (you will not drown).
    Ride the grey wolf (hold tightly to his fur).
    There is a worm at the heart of the tower; that is
    why it will not stand.
    When you reach the little house, the place your
    journey started,
    you will recognize it, although it will seem
    much smaller than you remember.
    Walk up the path, and through the garden gate
    you never saw before but once.
    And then go home. Or make a home.
    And rest."
    -Neil Gaiman