Poetry By Willow Dancer


Once a long long time ago
in a vast forgotten wood
a cabin made of stone and straw
in a tidy circle stood.

Tucked away among the trees
it was nearly out of sight,
yet it rang with chants and chimes
almost every night.

A maiden and her scrawny cat
shared the tiny home,
no one understood her,
she spoke as in a poem.

Her words were full of mysteries
whispered in a rhyme,
all about the wondrous ways
lost to us in time.

Dressed in robes as black as jet
her face was never shown
town folk came to visit her
making sure it wasn't known.

To buy her herbs for pennies
and potions to change ones will
this heathen country healer
could conjure away their ills.

Most sunny days would find her
tending pots out on her porch,
late at night she'd steal away
guided by a flaming torch.

Deep into the forest
to the edge of a swampy glade
she'd climb onto a waiting raft
not a single sound she made.

The current of the water
seemed to know which course to take
they floated toward enchanted shores
there across the lake.

Standing on the glistening sand
with smiles upon their face
the coven stood awaiting her
to claim her rightful place.

Willow Dancer
12 - 22 - 02

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