witch hunts in woods
for feathers and stones
only in company of crows
barefooted and painted toes
tonight there will be a circle
ancient names to be called
in a circle so scared
no evil can cross it’s threshold

witch hunts in the woods
for signs and wonders
and finds them in
the whisper of winds
and the bark of trees
the only sound the song of bees
she is in a trance
she is already dancing a sacred dance

witch hunts in the forest
she uses no weapons of war
she use the pure of her heart
and the wisdom of the spirit
she is feared for her art
but she is of gentle heart
a witch hunting in the forest
a priestess of mysteries…

(c) 2014 allen simpson

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