The Coven

I had shot a couple of pheasants,

Was returning, deep from the wood,

Avoiding the crackle of branches, making

As little noise as I could,

The sky was clear and a harvest moon

Shone down through the old oak leaves,

When I saw the glimmer of candlelight

Shimmering through the trees.

 

I hid myself by the mighty oak

That had grown, six hundred years,

And heard the mutter of chanting there,

The rhyme of an evil verse,

I looked on out to a clearing where

The Devil and all were stood,

Thirteen candles and thirteen cloaks

And thirteen wearing a hood.

 

The Devil stood on an ancient stump

His face was hid from the mass,

He held a crucifix upside down

They all bowed down in the grass,

A woman rose from the group and peeled

The cloak that covered her form,

The sight of her beauty caught my breath

As if I’d never been born!

 

The hood remained, and concealed her face

As she dropped down on all fours,

The Devil leapt from his stump, and raged,

Then took her there by force;

The others chanted and danced about

In a circle, for some rite,

Despoiling the Devil’s chosen witch

Was the purpose of that night.

 

They all dispersed as the moon went in

Was hid by an ugly cloud,

I kept my eye on the Devil’s form

He was wrapped in a purple shroud,

I trailed him, loping, out of the wood

Like a beast that’s held at bay,

And brought him struggling to the ground

To see what he’d have to say.

 

I ripped the hood from his evil face,

He snarled and snapped in the night,

‘Let’s have a look at those evil eyes!’

He growled, and put up a fight;

But I laid him low by the mansion gate

And I held him there on the ground,

He yelled: ‘I’m the Lord of Leighton Hay

The Lord of these these woods and downs!’

 

‘So this is the Demon Devil’s face,

Then who was the Winsome Witch?

I’m sure the Lady of Leighton Hay

Would be ready to flay the b***h!’

‘You mustn’t tell, it would break the spell

Of the coven, and all my power,

What would you take for your silence, now,

For the reck of this parlous hour!’

 

‘There’s just one thing that I’d take from you

To silence this gossiping tongue,

She’s sweet, petite, and has dancing feet,

And I guess you know, she’s young!’

‘If you talk about Lady Caroline,

My daughter, never for you!’

‘Oh well, the Lady of Leighton Hay

May brew up a Hell of a stew!’

 

That was a year and a day ago,

We wed, and live in the lodge,

The witches are still in the woods out there,

I often go out to watch;

But my Lady wife is an innocent,

I know she’d never deceive,

Except for the pot of serpents and frogs

She brewed on All Hallows Eve!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[spiritwind]

Your rhythm and your rhyme are so natural. I wouldn't be surprised if you spoke like this in everyday natural conversation for how else do you get so at ease with communicating like this? It is awesome to those who cannot do it and I think your verses would be awesome even for those who can do this kind of poetry too. I can find no fault.

[David Scott]

Have we all been bought and sold? A grim view of our state of being. Obviously well penned, but the poem speaks volumes about what one would do or look past to have their hearts desire.

[realmwriter]

This is one spooky tale of the Devil that my mind was drawing such vivid images, almost as if I were there in their midst. I am in awe of your style sir and I say this as one who apperciate a good rhyme. I can write in rhyme but no where neer as good as this. You have a way with words that seems to make them dance across the page and transform into elagant and blissfully detailed images. I enjoyed this very much...!

[John Alexander McFadyen]

I don't know where you get your inspiration from David but you do tell a sharp tale. It's a mix of satanic meets Lady Chatterley meets Conan Doyle.

[Patricia B. Hepler]

Ditto to spiritwind's comment! Again, a wonderful story told in your special "Paget" style, which I so enjoy~ pat

[Valentine]

Whew.you really dida good job on this one.There are so many people across the world that still believe like that today..It used to be the KKK here many years ago..and down in Cajun country I am told they still cast spells..Thankfully I am a child of the King og Kings..love Kathie

[Lumière Dé..]

And there it is again. Flawless, David. :)

[TL Boehm]

brilliant. As always you are a superb story teller unfettered by the constraints of the mechanism you use - poetry.

[Tate Morgan]

That was great Superstitions are easily fed and devoured by the ignorance and wanton desire of mankind. The less educated the soul the easier it is to command its respect and devotion. I see this same thing here when a working mob gives their futures to a union that promises to take care of them all.In so doing they are sorely rewarded by the admonition that their futures were sold out for a few peoples careers and lust for power.hence as is with Enron everyone but a few lose everything in the endeavor .Because they trusted that a company would look after them before it would its shareholders.

[Bell-lala]

This is a wonderful piece here. Loved it.

[Lisa Ring]

So the Devil is your neighbor. I think he's lived next to me once or twice. ;) I will write what I have written before; I am never disappointed with your work. You have such skill, such talent, such a beautiful way of writing; many of us can only aspire to be like you.