Over cauldron, brew
is moved & slowly stirred,
Eye of newt, entrails
of beast & heart of tiny bird,
Hot-pot bubbling, steam
with ancient sins arising,
Vows, secrets &
rituals of the old hag comprising.
Debated, over mulled
& within coven duly mooted,
Solutions, potions,
concoctions of herbs deep rooted,
The rites of raven
& the old wolf´s melancholic tune,
The witch chants &
stirs & so turns the ancient moon.
Love for the virgin
or long awaited wife for the man,
The wailing & the
chanting for a simple change of plan,
The night wind howls
& to waiting hell, her song evokes,
Silence reigns, as
the spell by the crone is now bespoke.
Beauty bestowed upon
the ugly & to rags, new born riches,
Ancient secrets known
to none, but only to law of witches,
Death befall upon the
heads of neighbours sorry erring,
Night falls, mantled
only in the black cat´s happy purring.
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