Poem -

The Goddess

Wind blowing cold and sharp.
The ancient grove of trees moaned.
The flames leaped and sparked
Making crackling noises upwards
Into a deep and dark night sky
A long figure cloaked and bent
Gazes out into the chilly night
Laughing to herself she draws
her circle
Her place of power is now done,
The goddess is summoned for 
the witch tonight,
She is called down from her moon.
The hounds of hell are howling
as the mists of time now part.
In the midst of the flaming fire.
In the smoke and flames alike.
The outline of a woman
is seen growing stronger tonight,
As  the witch keeps up her
chanting,
Aa the lady of the silver wheel
arrives to weave a destiny
Arrianrodh herself is here.
To assist in the work tonight,
Such a one to make it felt
To remind men of other times.
When the old ways were  honored.
When the goddess was a voice
Be assured she has never
left 
 

 

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