Moon of magick,
Blood for fertility,
Druid fires blazing bright.
Wail of the banshee,
Otherworld shadows drape the night.
Wings of sorcery,
Eyes like darkest midnight gaze.
Moment of mystery,
Born again the ancient ways.
Season of the Crone
Crone of Samhain's spellbound cold,
in Her cauldron of black are told
secrets ancient, truths and tales:
mystery Her light unveils.
She is wisdom, She is changes:
time and space She rearranges.
In Her hands, the card of Death,
for transformation is Her breath.
Crone of Samhain, Grandmother wise,
look into Her gargoyle eyes.
Let Her lessons teach you well:
life is but a magick spell.
We chant, we weave
A web of magick for to cleave.
In love believe,
Our new year's goals
We shall achieve!
A Halloween Charm
Let the sacred fires burn bright.
Let the spirits rise
and the moon make her magick.
Behold the shadows as they dance,
while the cold wind whispers
its ancient incantations.
Cast the circle and read the signs,
for magick is afoot in the witching hour.
Let the love of the Old Ones light the way,
and through candle-glow and magick-mirror
may the wisdom of the ages be revealed.
As it is willed, so mote it be!