Witches are immortal, & we're starting to see
You may have burned the bodies
But the spirits they fled free

Witches are ethereal, & we're starting to feel
Ashes may have fallen
But they nurtured seeds you plowed from fields

Witches, we're alive
and we're dressed in gleamed skin
Our eyes pierce through bones
And our hearts never wear thin

We'll push you to the edge
until you turn into your highest form
The weak fear us because they know through us humanity transforms

We call, witches arise
And climb up the holes
It's time to bless the soil and unchain the shackled souls

With words, we unfurl magic
With truths, we unveil strengths

With power so infinite
It lives ever; it is shared.

The young Witch puts a note in a bag
She’s yet to turn her back on God
But rather open herself up to the universe
The young Witch sits naked under than moon
She no longer prays
But speaks to God as a father and not a master
She’s no longer afraid of his approval or denial.
The young Witch speaks as the trees blow
She tells him of the boy she wants
She commands that it’s what she deserves
She demands that the universe bring this boy to her
The young Witch cries
As God responds to her
As a daughter and not a slave
God reads the note
God meets the boy
The young Witch smiles
As she hears the voice of God
Through the boy from the note
Telling her of what he wants
Commanding he’s what she deserves
And wandering his way to the young Witch.

The Kiss of Ceridwen
by Michael R. Burch

The kiss of Ceridwen
I have felt upon my brow,
    and the past and the future
    have appeared, an eerie vapor,
mingling with the here and now.

And Morrigan, the Raven,
the messenger, has come,
    to tell me that the gods, unsung,
    will not last long
when the druids’ harps grow dumb.

Originally published by Songs of Innocence

Keywords/Tags: Ceridwen, white, witch, enchantress, sorceress, crone, cauldron, awen, throne, Morfran, power, Wales, Welsh, Druids, Banshee, Picts, Scots, Scottish, fairies, glade, raven, gull, King Arthur, Arthurian, Morgause, Merlin, round table, knights, England, stone, Excalibur, chivalry, Camelot, Uther Pendragon, Colgrim, Saxon

Be careful little mouse
you are dancing with fire.
I have you under my magnifying glass
I decide weather you burn,
so I’d hold my tongue if I were you
your tricks have a way of making me tick
trick
trick
tock  
though there will be no warning
when your your life catches a flame
I will watch you squeal and squirm
with a grin upon my face.
so please think throughly about your words
and put them up and zip them away
if you’d rather not pay the price for your words upon this day.

With the open gates of Babylon
the holy flood poured on and on
through frond-covered stone ways
on grieving Palm Sunday
and the ****** water endlessly rushed
as if turned to wine by Jesus's touch

we were his disciples but behaved like sinners
he walked on water as we took from the rich
the godless romans were quick to condemn us
thus Jesus was crucified for being a witch

they set our stakes ablaze in the night
the darkness enflamed by unholy light
covered our heads with white cotton hoods
and barefoot we stumbled through dusk-silenced woods
we could hear the flames crack like whips in the dark
as they reached for us who were blessed with death's mark.

They were innocent
The ones who walked this path before me
The ones who never did any wrong
Who committed no sin
'Do what ye will but harm none'

They were the ones who loved the earth
Listened to the cries of the wind and the heartbeat of the sky
Saw the dawn kiss the night sky goodbye
And how the moon would watch over them all
The ones who fell in love with all of Earth's mysteries

The ones who loved to heal
Who cherished all life, and wasted none
The ones who saw everything and nothing
Who ran with the rain
And sang to the storms
Who thanked the crops and respected the Earth
The ones who wrote in runes
And spoke in code
To save our craft and protect our herbs

They were stripped of dignity, but not of pride
Dropped into the water but embraced by the gaurdians of the West, resting in defiance on the surface of the sea
They burned their bodies, but not their souls
They wounded their flesh, but not their will
And like a Phoenix, they rose again
Reborn more powerful, more proud

If again we must, again we shall
No longer will we hide our pride
Our symbols, our spells, our rituals, our magic
No longer shall we fear the ones who do not love the earth we live upon
The ones who burned our brothers and sisters out of hate and refused to understand
The ones who slaughter the land and do not value
all the life that exists together
For we are witches who honor our past and rise together as a Phoenix, rising from the ashes of the ones who crumbled so we could soar

It's Halloween!
by Michael R. Burch

If evening falls
on graveyard walls
far softer than a sigh;
if shadows fly
the sickled sky,
while children toss their heads
uneasy in their beds,
beware the witch's eye!

If goblins loom
within the gloom
till playful pups grow terse;
if birds give up their verse
to comfort chicks they nurse,
while children dream weird dreams
of ugly, wiggly things,
beware the serpent's curse!

If spirits scream
in haunted dreams
while ancient sibyls rise
to plague nightmarish skies
one night without disguise,
while children toss about
uneasy, full of doubt,
beware the Devil's lies . . .

it's Halloween!

Keywords/Tags: Halloween, graveyard, shadows, sickle, moon, witch, witches, goblins, serpents, spirits, ghosts, sibyls, Devil

the witch
by michael r. burch

her fingers draw into claws
she cackles through rotting teeth ...
u ask “are there witches?”
                                              pshaw!
(yet she has my belief)

Keywords/Tags: witch, witches, Halloween, fingers, nails, claws, talons, cackle, cackles, teeth, rotting, rotten, broom, broomstick, cat