She stood among the trees, a crystal in her hand.
What hope has brought her here?  What devious
wonder does she plan?

A ring of salt, a pentagram, a man made of wax.  The
hair she has so carefully glued, his button she had
plucked, into the circle she placed them inside a
silver cup.

Black candle lit, a dance begins around, around the
circled flame, as off her garments she flung.  An
ancient incantation taught to her, from an unholy
book into the night air she sung.

The moon in it's full glory played upon her skin,
reflecting tiny sparkles, as she took the secret
from within.

I heard her call the master, I heard her take a vow.  I
saw the wax melted and placed upon her brow.  A
drop of innocent blood, some fresh grave yard dirt,
the crystal in the tree.

Than I began to notice, a scarf, a shoe, a comb, a key
these  belonged to me!  I knew their missing, was a
plan, that their thief a price would pay.  I went
that night into the glade, and took her breath away.

I left her there, halting her plan.  A novice witch,
a foolish thought, she wished to be rid of me -
and take my loving man.

No protection was bought for her, I took the crystal
from the tree, I once had given a student this.  Oh
She did not use it well.  A beginner should never try
against a hand that has long since been sure.

Her body dangles from a tree inside the knotty wood.
I am sure we will meet again someday inside the
eternal flames.  A teacher and an erring student witch,
for in damnation all is paid.  But Ah!  The life
is good!

Please don't copy or use this
poem because it is copyrighted!

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