WITCHESꞌ MOON
Michael
Pendragon
Tonight the harvest moon burns red
And bathes the world in pumpkin spice,
She calls the Old Ones from their bed
With whispered words that run like mice
Across the sleeping land.
She hums tunes snatched from black cat cries
From gingersnaps and fenny snakes,
She sweeps the cobwebs from the skies
And smiles as the world awakes
To dream at her command.
Tonight in some forgotten glen
Her worshippers will dance in rings,
And hidden from the gaze of men
Engage in foul, ungodly things
As dragons eat the
stars.
There in the moonlight's pumpkin glow
They'll call upon the Ancient names,
Then round about the bonfire go
Toss wicker scarecrows on the flames
To burn away Earth's scars.
Tonight the blood-red witches' moon
Looks down to cast her timeless spell,
Where dreams are tossed like scattered runes
Before the gates of Hell.
