Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2014
A circle drawn about the dirt,
The sacred herb burning in the moonlight,
I fire in the center nice and bright,
As the night drags on, the spirits come,
They have come to join in the fun,
Till the next morning sun,
Then as the dark turns to light,
The oracle will claim their sight,
May fortune be in your favor,
And your bounty shall you savor.
Conor Cleveland
Written by
Conor Cleveland
437
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems