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Successors of Solomon, wiser than wise
Guided by motions of stars in the skies
               Restoring our powers
               Through forests and flowers
With spells on our lips and a gleam in our eyes
An older one from the archive
Bowedbranches Jun 27
Waiting to combust
With the rowdiest
Sons a *******
So Solipsistic

How are all of you
Steering this ship
From a sole conscious
What does the abyss say?

Honestly I am fed up
With their kind!

Always
Trying to rewrite
The psalms of witches
All I got's my word
So that's all you'll be given

What?!
You gonna burn me?
Go 'head
Unburden me
Of these "impurities"


Energy's eternal
Watch as it's transfered
From my fingers
Back into the earth

The final embers were flickering
For what felt like forever

Sizzle
       Crackle
              Pop

They'll never learn from this
Thomas W Case Jun 2023
I wonder where my little pagan princess is?
No doubt, she's out casting spells,
or getting her nails, hair, and lips painted black.
I gave her a broomstick for her birthday and said it was cheaper on gas than her Saab.
She failed to see the humor in it.
What I wouldn't give to find a woman that dug watching sunsets, The Three stooges, and listening to Miles Davis; that looked alive, instead of like Morticia from the Adams Family,  or some demented funeral
director on crack.

She's got a meeting with the
coven tonight.
I suggested that we get some
Chardonnay, put on some Van Morrison, and make love by
the fireplace.
She just cackled and flew off,
in her Saab, not on the broomstick.
Sunset Meadows Feb 2023
I am from water, from fire,
      from earth and air,
            the spirit to complete.
I am from the busy movement of city
      from the busstling to and fro.
I am from historic land,
      from where many jumped to find gold,
            to find a better life.
I am from the prison of Him,
      from where the truama begins,
            perfect from all around.
I am from nights of games,
      from spondgebob monoply
            from Life.
I am from the seeds of the earth,
      from where the magick starts.
I am from Odin, from Apollo,
      the strong Yggdrasil to protect.
I am from the occult of practice,
      from the forests and seas.
I am from long walks with Odin,
      from his warm embrace,
            from playing fetch.
I am from the theatre,
      from Carlos, from tech.
I am from here.
Jennifer DeLong Sep 2022
It's time to light bonfires
Heat up some witches brew
Light up some incense
Cast our blessings
Churn some spells
Fear not thy winter
For autumn is first
It's time to enjoy
evening walks under the moon
Time for us witches
to prepare & craft some
Halloween decor
And to enjoy our time with
nature for soon we will
stay more indoor
So brew my coffee as , I do
I think of creative autumn
things , I need to do
Autumn is such a blessed
time of year
So here's a cheer for
this blessed time of year
© Jennifer L DeLong 9/28/22 🕸🌰
Jennifer DeLong Sep 2022
Within my magic
is me
Within my spirit
is my magic
To be me is to be filled
with the magic spirit
I am a manifestation
of the wiccan witch
The gifts bestowed upon me
come from the witches
who gifted me the knowledge
of the magical way to live
& spiritual power to heal
In there honor , I give my contribution to the witch's past
I honor them when , I cast my
spells and grow my magic
so within my soul
is the magic spirit
that is me
This wiccan witch

© Jennifer L DeLong. 9/2022
🌚⭐🦏🗝🎭
Filomena Mar 2022
The mage with her sage
was cleaning her cage
imagining tragedy's
angels engage

She erected a sigil
protecting her vigil
a palindrome had in Rome
angst to assuage

As she brought out her cards
she thought of the bards
had her spirit inherited
some of their ways?


When she put them away
she had cart loads to say
and the guides of her writing
stayed by her for days!
Late evening Thu. Mar. 3, 2022.
This more optimistic version was written immediately after the first.
So mote it be!
Filomena Mar 2022
The mage with her sage
was cleaning her cage
imagining tragedy's
angels engage

She erected a sigil
protecting her vigil
a palindrome had in Rome
angst to assuage

As she brought out her cards
she thought of the bards
had her spirit inherited
some of their ways?


When she put them away
she had nothing to say
and the guides of her writing
were silent for days
Late evening of Thu. Mar. 3, 2022
This pessimistic version was written first.
Sonorant Jul 2021
Banished before thon barren plains,
Where treacherous tears abstain
Fare. Fair is the waste,
The impurity of deep, decrepit weeds.
And dage brings fruit then touched
Only by their ravens of rot.
May they paint thine tainted stave
In golden garth and lull the lark;
“Mine, Sweet babe,
Robbed of cradle
Readied for ritual.
Mine, Sweet babe,
Gore masked black
Within the crimson bath.”
Lacen their throats, the gullets that gloat!
Lest langes of thorns, wrap the bairn sworn.
Death breeds glore o’er luid nights
Beldam rise belles in wicked repel.
Round the funeral pyre.
Zoe Grace Jun 2021
I am drawn to it
Theres no doubt
Now that ive glimpsed behind the curtain
Theres no way I could live without

The wisdom there, the fantasy
All grounded within reality
Cleanse a room with a loud noise
Poise is no longer mandatory

Crystals, carving sigils
This is where I belong
After so long
I have finally found a place
About a month ago, it drew me in. I feel an intangible but irresistible connection.
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