The Witches Dance On Clawborough Road

 

Her hair- black as a raven’s breast

   Eyes glowing through orbs of green

She dances covertly in the dark of night

    Where not another soul is seen

warbling a haunting, enchanted tune

 

Chanting, dancing around the fire

   under light of a full October moon

Questions lie on lips to desire

   Is she malevolent or benevolent?

Never a soul has been so bold

   to tell their story, too hesitant!

 

She possesses many powers, many tales

   Lifting her hands as she chants

Red mist swirling, twirling behind her veil

   Eyes brightening in orbs of green

Chilly mist crawling over her skin

   Under an oak tree dancing unseen

 

Cloaked under her crimson, blood red shawl

   Strange sounds and names uttered

 as she boldly dances, chanting out her call

   Wild, fierce, bold and free

Like a chameleon she changes

    in red blazing firelight so unseen

 

Suddenly, the ground shakes with deafening roar

    Bursts of electric blue, beam above her head

Voltaic forces join, shaking earth’s woodland floor

    Down the path, robes flowing, blowing in the breeze

Many forces about, electrifying ground and air

 

Gathering together, chanting, dancing under the trees

    Many denizens of this land astound

Warlocks and witches cast their magic here

    as their caldron bubbles over ground

 

They come together from lake and fen

    Here they meet from darkened lair

Ferny dells and rocky dens

    “Make room”, they call in pitch black night

Bringing many potions to mix them well

    Taking wool, wand, bone and eyes, what a fright!

Casting out and about their magic spells

 

 

   Mixing tooth and tongue and nail

Under fire, water, earth and dung

   They mix the caldron, hold the flail

Hemlock, henbane, adder’s blood

   Chanting out “By thee we bound upon this road"!

Suddenly the spell’s been cannily brewed

   Using blood, eyes, tongue of a toad

 

    As quickly as they came, they hastily leave

Departing forest dark, entering private glades

   Leaving once again, only to return

On another chilly, full October moon eve

   they’ll chant, they'll brew their magic urns

"Merry Meet", they all say, as they make haste to leave

c/r By LadeeAnne ~ anne p murray
2016

Reviews

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

A very fun poem and very festive for this time of year... this would be fun to recite in front of a camp fire.

[grayhaven]

Wow wow wow.... I am amazed my dear friend. What a tale of enchantment you have woven. I have to agree with the previous post....BRAVO!!!!!!!!!!!

[Patches I'm not so new..]

WoW! This is shall I say Spellbinding?! love the word picture you have painted in the poem absolutly ----
spellbinding , yes I believe that is the right word! Bravo!!!! my friend Bravo!!!!