By Andre Desjardins
I take up this broom into my hand
A besom to cleanse wherever I stand
Crafted carefully and filled with love
To make this place below like above
Now sweep this place of circle cast three
Allow that within to be set free
Create a space cleansed and pure
Every stroke made, more deft and sure
Cast out all that would hinder or harm
Let there be nothing here to cause alarm
Each graceful stroke serves the cause
And draws away our weakness and flaws
Serving the lady as you purify this space
Prepared also for our Lord in all his grace
To each bristle I give all my might
So my work is successful on this night
This place is cleansed now for any to see
So I give a kiss in thanks and say, So mote it be
By Nelson Boon
To Prepare the Circle
I take the broom and start the sweep;
This circle life shall safely keep.
All dirt and dust, I drive away
To cleanse this place for those who stay.
Unwholesome thought from in this place
Will disappear without a trace.
Around and round, I make my turn
That light herein may safely burn.
With cleansing broom, I go around
That in this place warm love be found.
All baleful spirits now depart
To leave firm law within our heart.
With each new stroke, the end draws near
And lets us practice without fear,
And welcome in the gods above,
And celebrate this night in love.
So mote it be.
To Close the Circle
Our circle now has been undone
Before the morning brings the sun.
By prying eye is no sign seen
To show where we this night have been.
In secret we each other meet,
And come the Ancient Ones to greet.
The rites we celebrated here
Have brought our hearts deserved cheer.
No trace we leave upon the earth,
The Lady who has giv’n us birth.
The Lord’s dim glade we now restore
To him whose power lives evermore.
And with these last, light besom strokes
Beneath the ancient, tow’ring oaks,
Our presence here is swept away
Till next we come at close of day.