Season Of The Witch

As the moon climbs over the hill,
The creatures out in the wild
Wary of the noise, less heard
And the air breathless

There’s something awry in the air tonight
Both mystical and dark, unclean,
Shadows are lurking by old stone walls
In wait for a sign to be seen,

Wearing her smoke-black cloak in the dance
And fluttering like the vampire bat
Grapped her broom only to cut the wind
And fly over the tomb

The flight went over the hill,
Steep and Swift
The crackling sounds of mirth,
Then the air is cold and still.

While watchful eyes at the window-sill
Went straight through the vast land
Out to the farm,
Will get not a minute’s sleep this night.

But the witches danced in a grove of trees
Quite hidden from anyone’s sight,
Wishing to fly high while the Moon is bright!
Coz’ tonight is the magical mystery night

They mounted their broomsticks, held their breath
Then leapt each one with a scream,
And the screams could be heard a mile away
In the Season of the Witch!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *