Tuesday, October 30, 2012

A Coven @ Rosslyn


A Coven @ Rosslyn




I met the laird,
Here at the glen,
He just fobbed me off again.

Stay high on the path,
His final intimidating words,
Sad for him they go unheard.

For I am curious,
To see what goes on,
In the woods at night, this season.

I know of witches,
That come with flowing robes on,
Soon beyond the sunsets gone.

And I hear a rumour,
Of the incantations and rites,
These lovers of nature perform at nights.

Gathered round a fire bright,
Cauldrons bubbling, fingers working,
Catching mysterious intruders lurking.

The laird is lord,
Here in this tiny glen,
His witches, wives, enjoying men.

For in the darkness,
There is a harrowdens heat,
Where all shall worship, at her feet.

I don't say impure,
This observance is as old as time,
I understand the reason, not the rhyme.

So come I must,
To help expel all the fear,
Of this witches coven, I am drawing near,