Witches

Yzybyl the witch
The bitch, 
Is a cunning stunning sorceress and a mischievous girl, 
She’d put spells in which 
You’d itch 
To fall in love with her like she’s the only one in the world. 
But Yzybyl the witch 
Would switch 
And make you do things you’d never thought of or done before, 
You’d find yourself bewitched 
No hitch, 
Because her plan was to always have you come back for more. 
And Yzybyl the witch 
Would stitch 
Button eyes on voodoo dolls without balls to make you do her bidding, 
Suddenly you’d twitch 
Without a glitch, 
But there was something wrong because you'd always be so unwitting. 
So Yzybyl the witch 
Would pitch 
The most beautiful dreams and means to help you reach your goal, 
She found her niche, 
That bitch, 
Drink her brew with promises to make you rich but she will take your soul. 

You have this image
In your head
Of what you think I should
Look like
Of what you think I should
Be like

But I’m going to crash your thoughts
Destroy your ideas, the idea
That I must summon from the deep
Tear down the hands
That think I will infiltrate those who
Don’t agree
With me

I’m going to
Ravage the parts of your brain
That think I paint my face
With blood and rain
That think I’ll sit back
And say nothing
While you tie me up tight

You have this image
In your head
Of what you think I should
Look like
Of what you think I should
Be like

But I’m going to tear away your thoughts
Rip the pages, black out the words
That say, this is the way
It must be
That scream, this is the only way
To be
A witch like me

Now I’m going to
Separate your eyes from your skull
To show you what you shouldn’t
Focus on
Sift through the images you hide
To take away the ones untrue
While you light the fire at my feet

You have this image
In your head
Of what you think I should
Look like
Of what you think I should
Be like

But those images need to be crushed
Buried deep, turned over and made
Into mush
Soil for spring flowers
Life giving powers
Not ashes left to drift
Pile up then sift
Stop burning what you don’t understand
Heave your misgivings onto dry land
Hold our your hand
For
A witch like me

We three sisters
We stay strong  
From the souls of the small children  
Our voices pure and bright begin  
To lure the tiny kids  
We brew a special potion  
And make them drink it so  
Their souls will keep us young  
We've got secrets of the untold
 
We three sisters all day long have risen once again  
You hanged us once  
And when you did we let a cantillation roar  
We'll be back we said, it's true  
And look were back knocking at your door  
Our voices ring through the town  
They come to us  
Never let us down  
 
We three sisters  
The Sandersons  
Will not go down today  
So if its Halloween, hold your schemes  
And come with us to play  
Come with us, drink our brew  
And welcome to your dying day

Behold the flight of Midnight Ravens
From cardinal winds they came  
Earth-bound by their course  
Return to sacred space once again  
  
Graceful in their descent  
Wings outstretched with darkness laden  
Passing under rustic clouds  
Feathers turn into Midnight Maidens  
   
Entering in to the soul of the wood  
And performing their hidden office  
Five points drawn now the access  
To their otherworld place of promise  
   
they are the watchers  
they are the keepers  
above and below gate seekers  
star divining  
and ball-scrying  
their all-seeing cats’ eye spying  
   
Treading the deepest path  
Queens of elemental grounded ways  
For the know of well-worn magick  
Their crowns they willingly trade  
   
Rising from steaming cistern  
Serpents of form and apparition  
Twisting ‘round the Ash-pole  
Hate be their first commission  
   
Ornamental silvery sounds  
Chime from moons’ high pale breast  
Shading them with Her milk  
Blessing for all Her evening circle guests  
   
they are listening  
and they are waiting  
for the powers they are creating  
by enchantment  
by lunation  
grooming their spells for infiltration  
   
Royalty of Akasha  
Slowly rhyming incantation  
Widdershins about Her Craftwork  
Quickening their plane of meditation  
   
Unfolding before the nightsky  
Metal Dragons from whispering mists  
Mighty beasts that turn the wheel  
Around the pentagram of the Witch  
   
Into legend and folklore  
Transcending tales and superstition  
These are the finest jewels  
Of all time and all tradition  
   
they are the Crones  
they are the Maidens  
Mothers with gibbous impregnation  
they are the Crows  
they are the Ravens  
Black Swans diving to sunset havens  
   
Seeking pathway through the Ancients  
Igniting embers of Olde Ways  
Yielding to the Power  
Travel, into the heart of the Arcane  
   
Dwelling in distant place  
Aloft and beyond all  
A fortress on the outer realm  
Prevailing Siren of winter call  
   
Unsiegeable hermetic rock  
Metallurgical hex-command  
High towers within towers  
By their strength the Wise Ones stand