The Ramblings and Wanderings

They meet at the appointed place and time

And greet each other warmly with a smile

Up the hill and into the woods they climb

Down winding trails they walk in single file

*

Passing under maple trees, oaks and birches

Entering a hawthorn grove they slowed

Where three paths meet stood three witches

And prepared for a ritual at the crossroad

*

With candles carefully lit they begin the rite

Tentatively they start to drum and chant

Voices raised in celebration well into the night

With gratitude for gifts the gods do grant

*

Then the lights go out and into darkness they gaze

Quietly they call to the spirits and then they lay

The forest turns into a dark and ghostly haze

Witches whisper with delight and watch the fae

*

Prayers are said and magick spoken

But soon its time to pack up and head home

Offerings given as some small token

Three witches always sisters wherever they roam

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