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Page: Profile: Poetry
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Poem Specs
VxPoem ID: 16215
Category:
humor
Posted: September 16th. 2005 5:03:06 PM
Views: 1044 |
The Witches' Creed: Reprise… *!humour alert!*
by Jemma Hawtrey
Age Group: Adult
The Witches' Creed: Reprise…
Hear now the words of the witches,
As we stumble around in the night,
From the end of your mothers back pathway is heard
“I cant get this damn fire to light!!”
Mysterious water and fire,
The earth and the wide-ranging air,
As the shed just burnt down, we now know them,
And will and keep silent and dare.
The birth and rebirth of all nature,
The passing of winter and spring,
We share with the life universal,
Rejoice in the magical ring.
Four times in the year the Great Sabbat
Returns, and the witches are seen
At Lammas and Candlemas Drinking,
On May Eve and old Hallowe'en.
When day-time and night-time are equal,
When sun is at greatest and least,
The four Lesser Sabbats are summoned,
And Witches gather in feast.
Thirteen silver moons in a year are,
Thirteen is the coven's array.
Thiteen times at Esbat make merry,
Just make sure you’re not TS or Gay
The power that was passed down the age,
Each time between woman and man,
But its much more fun to drink soda,
And play Doom 3 on the LAN.
When drawn is the magical circle,
By sword or athame of power,
We all get so very drunk mate,
And stare at that pretty blue flower.
This world has no right then to know it,
As most of us, we really know naught.
The oldest of Gods are invoked there,
Until by the park warden we’re caught.
For two are the mystical pillars,
That stand at the gate of the shrine,
And two is the sum of the group IQ,
As we sit, and we bitch, and we whine.
The dark and the light in succession,
The opposites each unto each,
Shown forth as a God and a Goddess:
Of this our best girlfriends teach.
By night he's the wild moped rider,
The Horny One, who wears cheapo shades.
By day he's that dork in the Woodland,
A stoner in green forest glades.
She is youthful or old as she pleases,
But if you’re wise, you don’t ask her age,
You wont get a word in edgeways,
As you’ve been gassed by the fumes from the sage.
The master and mistress of magic,
That dwell in the deeps of the mind,
So immortal and ever-renewing,
That we ask them our car-keys to find.
So drink the (filched) wine to the Old Gods,
And Smoke and Get Laid in their praise,
Till Elphame's fair land shall receive us
In peace at the end of our days.
And Do What You Will be the challenge,
So be it Love that harms none,
I may be the only one who thinks this?
But those last two lines are so dumb!
© JRM 28/08/05 (with some assistance from the original)
Author's Notes: Just to make the point... this is called humour.
enjoy it... after all, if we can't make fun of ourselves what right do we have to make fun of others....
JRM
Author's Location: Colchester, England
More Poems: Jemma Hawtrey has posted 70 additional poems- View them?
Author's Profile: To learn more about Jemma Hawtrey - Click HERE
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