O Witching Season
O witching season steeped in lore!
Encrypted in the banished stars,
Arriving from an occult shore,
Beyond the speck of Mars.
Tis witchery in gallant rays,
From wildernesses lost in time,
The palace of October days,
To magnify the rhyme.
The elder gods awakened all,
In mysteries and hidden rites,
The leasing of Dianna’s thrall,
Through elemental nights.
The blowing of pelagic airs,
From old Atlantis and beyond,
Pacific sunshine lit in flares,
Above the tropic frond.
The moving of the ghostly troop,
From out the hollows of the wood,
Arriving at the shrines to stoop,
With faery understood.
The moths gambolling in the light,
The festive conflagrations tall,
The witching season in delight,
And captivating all.
The dances in the gloaming dark,
The cheeriness upon the tongue,
The moon an ornamental bark,
In astral waters flung.
The scarecrow to defend the crop,
The crows in animation riled,
Indulgences that never stop,
And feasts ornately piled.
The sleekness of the festive garb,
The cockerel singing from the hay,
The roast upon the twisting barb,
The banter of the day.
The powers raised and apt to stun,
The ghosts upon the smoky eve,
The witching season gladly won,
Such riches to receive…
🧹
