Summer Solstice Sisters
- Sally Somerton
- Jun 21
- 1 min read
The sun rose gold from ocean's seam,
Peeping out of summer's dream.
It stretched its limbs across the bay,
And called the women out to play.
Barefoot queens with silver hair,
Wildflowers tangled everywhere,
Cotton skirts and laughing eyes,
Salt-kissed cheeks beneath blue skies.
They gathered where the standing stones,
Had listened long to ancient bones.
Where island breezes are softly sung,
The songs of goddess to beat of drum.
Someone brought the honey wine,
Another's gift, rosemary and thyme.
Several danced with jangling feet,
To sounds of drums, with pagan beat.
The gulls complained above the shore,
The sea replied with ancient lore.
And every wrinkle, scar and line,
Crowned in Solstice's golden shine.
No maiden now, nor crone alone,
But women fully, fiercely grown.
With age of wisdom on their side,
No longer fear, or need to hide.
They circle sun-wise, hand in hand,
The daughters of the sea and land.
They bless the fire, the earth, the rain,
The joy, the sorrow, love and pain.
"To all we've lost!" one woman's cry,
"To all that blooming!" others sigh.
They dance and sway upon the grass,
Then cheer and raise their wine-filled glass.
So if upon some island shore,
You hear the laughter evermore,
Solstice sisters are dancing there,
With flowers woven through their hair.
Still raising goblets to sea and sun,
Still celebrating having won,
The right to age, to love, to be,
As wild and bright as summer sea. ☀️🌿🌙
Sally x
Sally Somerton - Island Writer
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©sallysomerton2026
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