Full Moon Blessings

The final stage of waxing,

Look south and upon high.

The moon in all its glory,

Is sailing through the sky.


First praise Mother Ninlil,

Begetter of the moon.

Then her son Nergali,

Will be your focus soon.


His time comes when moon does wane,

Now for curse and strife.

Time to bring destruction,

To the bad things in your life.


Give love unto Nergali,

Whilst dancing ’round bonfires.

Offer him temptations,

and all that he desires.

©CMA 2020


As found in Sermons


Bible in 100 Words – The Ten Commandments – Exodus XX

It’s not easy being holy,
With all life’s got to share.
Let’s start with the Commandments,
And we’ll take it from there.

No other gods before the LORD.
No false idols in the way.
I will not take His name in vain.
Keep the Sabbath a holy day.
I’ll honour my mother and father.
A life I shall not take.
I shan’t commit adultery.
Stealing I will forsake.
No bearing false witness, with word, deed or sign.
I shall not covet anything; anything that’s not mine.

Ten Simple Rules,
to live life by.
There’s only ten,
Give them a try.



Half God

Adventures for Wayward Brownies – VI

Number Six’s Lesson

The little gang of six set off in the late afternoon sunshine. Picnics, walking sticks, backpacks and anoraks all excitedly prepared the night before ready for the big adventure today. The sun was hanging low down on the horizon and the dusk was looming as they entered the abandoned Churchyard. A buzz of excitement and anticipation filled the air round about them as they gamboled along the path overgrown with vast hedges and nettles, giggling and wriggling, skipping and tripping they went along the path towards the back of the Chapel.

It was Brownie ‘Number Six’ who was in charge of this week’s adventure. They each had a turn at choosing what their adventure entailed and nobody ever grumbled at the decisions as usually a wonderful good time was had by all. Brownie Number Six was called so due to the simple fact she was the youngest. Each one had a number in order of their ages and every six weeks or so, they’d get together for a Brownie Adventure. This adventure landed on a full moon and Number Six thought it would be excellent fun to visit an abandoned Cemetery, she’s been searching and searching for the perfect place when quite by accident Mother Owl let slip a bit of gossip she’d heard about Sister Winifred’s Uncle and his old parish; supposedly haunted by an old witch whose shack had been demolished to build the new chapel, unfortunately the old witch had been inside the shack at the time. The old chapel was now in ruins and the tale behind it would add to the fun.

They reached the Cemetery just before dusk and they eagerly made their way along the path. Upon reaching the old Oak door that used to welcome worshippers of times gone by they came to a decision, which path to take round the back – the left or right? Number Six gave the nod to vote and each raised their left hands in the Secret Brownie Salute. Taking the left hand path to the West side of the Chapel, they decided since they’d done good deeds all morning and they deserved a little treat.

They rounded the last bend of the path and reached the back of the Chapel and all slowly formed a line with Number Six in front (due to it being her adventure) following her in sequence; One, Two, Three, Four, then Five; all in line marching slowly and proudly to the gate at the top of the cellar steps. The line stopped and they all faced each other forming a small circle with Number Six addressing them:

‘Okay Brownies, we all know the rules and they all said together. ‘Any and all treasure, no matter how small, is divided up fairly, to one and to all’.’

Number Six grinned at everyone and asked the question they always asked before the start of any adventure. ‘Ready?’ and they all replied together, ‘Always!’ They opened the rusty old gate and descended the ancient stone steps. They counted thirteen down to the bottom and upon reaching the rotten wooden door leading to the cellar they found a sign written in thick red paint. KEEP OUT!

They looked at each other and Number Six gave the nod to vote. All six of them made the Secret Brownie Salute and raised their left hands again. Another unanimous decision had been made and in they went. It was still just about light enough outside to see the basic outline of the cellar and Number Three reached into her backpack and pulled out an old miner’s lantern and lit it. Placing it on a table that Number Four and Five had set the right way up again, she informed them they had enough oil ’til about midnight. On the floor near where the table had been lying there was an old cardboard box; upon investigation they found what looked like an old pocket watch, a few dried herbs, a pine-cone and also a little book that you could just about fit it in the palm of your hand. There were only a few pages, folded in the middle to make a little booklet and the cover was made out of a thick rough cloth with an elaborate design stitched into it with cheap cotton thread. There was a small handwritten paragraph on each page made with a scruffy hand and opposite there was a hand-drawn picture. It looked like a little story.


Judgement Day

The festival of Harvests was at its peak in the tiny forest, midway through the celebrations you might not notice a stage set up inside the ever-aging trunk of an ancient Redwood, the stage roof an encyclopaedia of history, with rings telling of Famines and Wars and Great Winters, ones that have been and hints of ones to come. The main theme of the second day is Justice and a very solemn part of the day starts at High Noon.This year’s play is the Call of Judgement. A most special event this year as the Owls are in attendance.

The Owls had swooped in on the eve of the New Moon, dark was the night and sharp were their wits. The tiny congregation, gasped in awe as the terrifying beasts swooped in, deafening thunder the sound their wings made as they snaked through the forest searching out the gathering. A special Oath is in place on such occasions, where all come in peace. This didn’t stop the young ones of the gathering cowering in fear behind the tiny lace aprons of their Grandmother’s skirts. The Owls circled the area above a Sycamore tree three times, causing a small breeze.

From their fearsome talons the Owls dropped tiny gifts, all landing perfectly onto the falling Spinning Jennies, tiny helicopters ever swirling on their slow waltz down to the ground, passing through clouds of fireflies causing a cacophany of lights; yellow, green and red flashes of lightning darting this way and that way. The gifts dropped precisely at the feet of whom they were intended.

The Owls swirled slower, one last time and swooped majestically down into their places. The Black owl landing on the branch of the White Birch and the White owl landing in the branches of the Black.

The Owls settled into position on the sturdy Branches of Justice as the Brownie helpers passed around seeds, nuts and grasses to all in attendance, all to be washed down with sweet honey and the juice of ripe red, green and blue berries. On solemn occasions such as this, everyone ate and drank from the same bowls and shared the same food and drink, all wore whatever they chose, everyone wears a mask and nobody feels ashamed.

When all had had their fill, everyone went to their places. All of a sudden, there was a new, bigger commotion from above.

The treetops shook and the whole Gathering fell silent wondering what wicked demon approached. Every single creature of the tiny forest obeyed the solemn Oath on such a night and only a servant of evil would dare to ever break it. All eyes raised skywards, as the dancing helicopters waltzed once more, swirling amidst glistening stardust, dazzling dewdrops falling from the moonless midnight sky, every colour of the rainbow, floating to the earth, this way and that way. Like snow from the heavens it covered them all. Everyone gaped in awe as the Great Grey Owl landed on her Throne.

The Great Grey Owl prepared to address her children, she turned her head this way and that way and looked at all of them. Big ones, little ones and tiny ones with an even look in her eyes, she took in a long slow breath and the whole of the forest, from the tiniest Tick to the mightiest Tree bowed their head in solemn silence to listen.

‘My children, the Great Sabbath is approaching as I am sure you are all aware by now. You have sensed my presence in the air in these recent times. Judgement Day is coming.’


They were quite enjoying the tale until it got to the last bit and for some reason a little shiver ran through all six of them, they were going to put the book back in the box when one of them noticed another folded piece of paper tucked into the back cover. Number Six retrieved it and on the front in big bold letters it said ‘Private and Confidential!’ – Only to be read during the New Moon!  KEEP OUT!

‘Private and confidential,’ they repeated in a little chorus, ‘Only to be read on the new moon,’ they echoed. ‘Keep out!’ they giggled in unison. The Grand Leader of the day (as this is the ceremonial title of the Brownie in charge of the day’s adventures) spoke.

“Brownie Sisters, we have been on many adventures together and I hope we shall have many more,’ they nodded their heads seriously in agreement as she continued. ‘On this paper might be great secrets, it might be a treasure map to great riches, it may be nothing. Whatever we find within, we must promise to share it equally.’ They looked at each other, raised their right hand in the official Brownie Salute and repeated together the Brownie Promise followed by the Brownie Motto.

“We’re the Brownies, here’s our aim, Lend a Hand and play the game”

Holding the treasured slip of paper in her left hand, Number Six nodded her head and they voted. They looked at each other, one after the next, five raised their left hand in their Secret Brownie Salute meaning one thing and the last one raised her right hand meaning another thing. A clear decision, but as the rules state, all Brownies ‘get to have their say, come what may‘. The Brownie who voted with her right hand gave a slightly worried look and pointed out that in fact it was quite the opposite of the New Moon and the others agreed, pointing out it would be even easier to read then. All six chuckled whilst Number Six unfolded the slip of paper and read aloud:

All you that in the condemned hole do lie,
Prepare you for tomorrow you shall die;
Watch all and pray: the hour is drawing near
That you before the Almighty must appear;
Examine well yourselves in time repent,
That you may not to eternal flames be sent.
And when St. Sepulchre’s Bell in the morning tolls
The Lord above have mercy on your soul.

They all looked at each other bewildered; then one remembered they’d learned something of it at school during a lesson on Nursery Rhymes, she was pretty sure it was Oranges and Lemons, they concluded they would read up on it together later. All of a sudden there was a loud bang and the cellar door closed behind them. Three, Four and Five jumped. One and Two giggled and Six read on:

Now you’ve read my poem, you’ve found out one of my tricks.
The last words that you read in sin, add up to sixty six.
Added to the ones above, it makes up quite a lot.
Add them all together, you’ll soon wish that you’d not.
As soon as you get to the end, a shiver through you goes;
You’ll realise you’ve just been cursed, with dodgy Satanic prose.
The Devil likes to play her games, she teaches as she plays.
Keep out has but one meaning. KEEP OUT if that’s what it says.
Wise Brownies pay attention, they scorn the other fools.
If you want to learn my secrets, obey all of my rules.
Now due to your insolence, a steep price you must pay.
The door is locked, you’re stuck within, until another day.




From Tall-ish Tales (Short-ish Stories)


©CMA 2016

Nutmeg in Her Knickers

Nutmeg in Her Knickers

Nutmeg + Mace

Nora, when asked about her bloomers,
Answered, it was fact, not rumours,
That nutmegs were a certain cure,
For rheumatism, t’was for sure,
It was not just an old wives tale,
A spud, or nutmeg could not fail,
If secreted next the skin
By corset or knickers to keep it in,
Would cure rheumatics or the ‘screws’,
When confined inside one’s trews,
(Wool Combinations would not do,
– Too many slits, so nuts fell through).*


Myristica fragrans

Like attracts Like


In Wales, red is considered a colour of many virtues, the mighty Red Dragon being a fine example. One remedy that springs readily to mind when I think of the colour red is an old cure for pains associated with rheumatism; applying a red flannel to the troubled area was supposed to ease the pain. My Grandad taught me that one after I’d told him of a strange encounter I’d had with a man in the lane who had a very strange odour.

I’d bumped into a of my Grandad’s workmates, (I could always spot a workmate by looking at his eyes). He came flying towards me round a bend in the lane as if in a terrible hurry and we all but collided. We both apologised profusely and started to exchange a few token pleasantries, before preparing to bid him ‘Good morning’ and be on my way. I suddenly noticed a strange smell coming from his person, it was a mix between Rosemary and cow dung. I tried to discreetly cover my nose and back away from him when he started to chuckle. He explained that he had a boil the size of Old Betty’s donkey’s buttocks on his neck and Old Betty swore by it as a cure, explaining that he had cow dung smeared inside a rag round about his throat, bid me ‘good morning’ and off he went!

I relayed the tale to my Grandad when I got home later that day and was amazed after the telling of it, the only thing he had to say was, ‘What colour was the rag?’ I thought back and said, ‘I think it was red.’

‘Ah,’ he nodded, explaining a little more, ‘the red’s for the heat, the dung’s for the cure. The Rosemary’s to hinder the smell. Colours can be quite powerful in their own right so they reckon,  works with other stuff too like scarlet fever, but you best hope you don’t get that! Yellow for jaundice, green for…… well, you get me, I won’t go on, just think on, red represents heat, like attracts like, a good one to rememeber.’ And remember it I did.


*Nutmeg in her Knickers

My friend’s Auntie Nora

Kept nutmegs in her drawers
Making dents in her dimpled knees,
When she knelt to scrub the floors.

Modern lassies might well ponder,
Also causing them to wonder,
HOW the nutmegs could remain,
Without them falling out again.
But THEY know only scanty panties,
NOT the voluminous ones like Auntie’s,
At knee and waist elasticated,
Keeping the wearer well protected.
Re-enforced with gusset (double),
Keeping the maidens out of trouble.

Nora, when asked about her bloomers,
Answered, it was fact, not rumours,
That nutmegs were a certain cure,
For rheumatism, t’was for sure,
It was not just an old wives tale,
A spud, or nutmeg could not fail,
If secreted next the skin
By corset or knickers to keep it in,
Would cure rheumatics or the ‘screws’,
When confined inside one’s trews,
(Wool Combinations would not do,
– Too many slits, so nuts fell through).

Aunt scoffed at girls’ bikini briefs,
She swore to her own beliefs
They were too small for the wearers’ good,
No room to spare for spice or spud!
(And as for tights and skinny jeans,
-They’d crush the nuts to smithereens!).

Copyright The Grandmother – K Davenport ’93

©CMA 2018


Sumerian Religion – The Moon – First Quarter – Inanna and Dumuzid – 180618

This time I’ll give a little glimpse,
Of some things soon to come.

For Her Mercy and Her Glory



I often speak in riddles,
It’s how I play my game.
There’s many ways to do it.
From wild, to mild, to tame.

All work if you trust them,
It’s how we use our will.
We’re taught to get our power,
Beneath the holy hill.

Holy Mountain

We believe in many things,
From below unto above,
We also honour those who teach;
And shower them with love.


This time I’ll give a little glimpse,
Of some things soon to come,
In two days time, it’s time to beg.
To the sister of the Sun.


Her name is holy Inanna, get to know her name.
She’s the reason I do this: She of ancient fame.
Her name and what she stands for, is imprinted on my heart.
I also have a brand that states that I am one of her tarts.


Wednesday has three tasks you’ll see.
One for the Lord, Inanna and Dumuzid.
Pay thy respects, in the order you see.
Then all thy dreams, will come plain to thee.

Now you have some insight, of what is soon to come.
You’ve got two days to plan, of how you’ll join in the fun.
Now I have to write the verse, that makes this up to eight.
I’d better include Irkalla; or we’ll not get through the Gate!




Remember all the Sabbaths

This is the post excerpt.

 Remember the Sabbath

Exodus XX

7 Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.

8 Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work;

9 but the seventh day is a sabbath unto the LORD thy God, in it thou shalt not do any manner of work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy man-servant, nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates;

10 for in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested on the seventh day; wherefore the LORD blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it.


Remember the Sabbaths

Sabbaths are important as most of us well know;
Saturdays and Sundays are the days for us to show;
Our devotion to the LORD above, our Father and our King.
We bow our heads in prayer, we raise our hearts and sing.

But Friday night’s for witches, as is the New Moon;
You’d better get your boots on, you’re going to miss it soon;
It’s coming up to twelve o’clock, so you may arrive too late;
Buckle up and join us fast, before He shuts the gate.

But fear not precious Sister, this one comes each week;
We’re discovering the pattern, of the things you seek.
So two things to remember; different times, same name.
But unlike last week’s ride to Mars, this day will stay the same.


Inana guide our path

One percent and waning,
Not too long ’til done,
The time has just hit midnight.
There’s no sign of the Sun.

The Moon has almost vanished,
The sky will soon be ours,
Time to grab your weapons,
We’re flying off to Mars.

We’re off to meet our Master,
Our Magister, our Lord.
He’ll be sat there waiting.
With His flaming Sword.

Ready to cast Judgement
On those who break His Will.
We’ll take in our instructions,
‘neath His holy hill.

When done He’ll give the Blessing,
As the morning dew,
The Master’s gift of power.
Restoring it to you.

You’ll see it’s just past midnight.
So you might have missed your chance,
To meet the Lord your Master.
And join the merry dance.

So next year we’ll be waiting,
For you to join our game.
You’ll find the date is different,
But His Name will stay the same.




As found in Sermons