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Earthwizard's Realms of Faërie

March, 17, 2005

Earthwizard's Realms of Faërie

Fly, fly, my witches fly...

	    
	
	    Artwork (c) Earthwizard
	       
				
		   A Witches' Salve
	
	The Stork hag knows the black salve:
	feathers to the body that do grow
	that flying witches’ know,
	the cauldron brew, the body rubs
	that quickens us to flight above;
	they travel by night on hyenas and wargs:
	the wolf lord of the wild woods
	picks the nightshade, hot buck fierce,
	bat blinded, bone dry, red as beetroot;
	but others say the tansy sways,
	hellebore, wild ginger root, with butter mixed:
	all fried into a liquid salve, applied
	becomes the ‘gude wytches’ guide;
	but the doctors of old believed it was
	hemlock, nightshade, henbane, and mandrake
	made of, that made the witches dance
	upon the graves of dead children;
	but all the Old Wives tales are not to be
	believed; for now we know the art and mystery:
	night travelers all to Venus Mountain go,
	to meet the Queen of Faëries: where drumming,
	piping, sound of strings magically takes us
	to the vision seeking waking dream of time,
	the measured vine of Pan’s goat hoofed life
	drinking down in dark remembrance
	of the fated withes brew of toadstools.
	
	    - Earthwizard, aka, Steven Craig Hickman
	        (c) January 8, 2004

poetry

		
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