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The wind it is a-calling So is the silvery moon And I'm off to the hill top To sing a merry tune I wrap my cloak around me chanting words of power Old spells that conjure magic Set all the world...
As I crept nearer I could just make out a light in the top left hand window. A silent breeze stirred the trees. I felt a chill down my spine. The light moved. It re-appeared in the next window.
#nightdwellers "So this is what's called 'Witching Hour'?" I heard a daemon scoff. I checked my watch and smiled a smile, He was a minute off.
#firstwrite Behold, a piece by 10 year old me that I found at the bottom of a box while I was cleaning out the porch. Thought I might share it here on Opuss, because, well, why not. Haha.
Witch goes shopping Upon her broom Finds a place to park it. Takes a shiny Shopping cart Into the supermarket.
Jars of herbs and spices, Pins and needles on the floor, Scattered papers, gems and crystals, Scriptures pinned against the wall.
Happy Hallowe'en and blessed Samhain to all of you wonderful Opussians out there. What are you going to be doing today.
I'm standing in the kitchen, Huddled over pans and pots, With a cloak around my frigid neck, And thoughts in dashing dots.
He came to me with shaking hands, And asked me for a spell, 'A potion that will make her love-' Oh, I know this type so well...
Feel the grip of magic, Feel it in the air, Embrace the power, shake the hand, But only if you dare.
#HalloweenParty #TheWitchingHour I gather up my herbs and tools, Excitement in my bones, Anticipation: every step, Despite my old limbs' groans.
A witch I have been this many a long year. My secrets held close in my heart so dear. My black book of spells, all tattered and torn. Kept far away from prying eyes that would scorn.
Cranberry spice heart, Frosted gold eyes, Ashen demeanour, And shattering lies. Blueberry bloodstream, Thoughts laced with wine, Cider, mulled, dark and sweet, Scorching her time.
By the light of day. No one would ever know. As the sun goes down. What I become and do. I'm not a folksy image. A haggard soul, with pointy hat. Cackling with a crooked smile.
Beware of the witch, Flying on her broomstick, Off to cast a spell. With her black cat, And extra pointy hat, You'll be look to come out well.
Her hair was scraggly, dyed black with silver highlighted streaks. She always wore black velvet skirts with tight leather corsets. At night she studied moon and star charts.
The night grows dark Eyes seek and follow all around Of animals and insects That know no earthly bounds The only sound that I can hear Hiss and crackling of the fire The potion that it heats so...
Double, double, toil and trouble, Fire burn and cauldron bubble, Double, double, ice and fire, Bring the night to my desire.
Scale of a dragon, A pinch of broken heart. Newts eye, Willow torn a part. Dashes of nightshade, Clothing from the dead. A family secret, Written in lead. Tongue of a snake A lock of human hair.
There's a place where cunning folk live... Way out on the marsh land. They wear hag stone jewellery On every finger of every hand.
A black smile pulled. across her thin pink lips,. She danced around the pot,. waggling her hips,. Frog toes and. petals of a dog rose,. Three leaves of mint. And of lust, just a hint,.
A withered shadowy figure moved in and out of the flickering fire light. A sleek ebony cat rested on the oak broom. Emerald energy clung to the beech wand in slithering tentacles of light.
There she sits in front me An old woman as sweet as could be. Little did we know that inside her purse Are mini bags filled with a curse. She took them out one by one Her evil curse has begun.
#youngwritershousehold * I'm not into the whole 'Halloween' thing - the word was spell and this was the only thing I could come up with* A witches spell on Halloween, Can change your life, to what's...