20191031 001067 3 minutes
Grandchildren, Witches, Magic, Dogs, Walking in the woods,
My grandkids are varied in size, color and species:
Furry with tails and four long legs,
Feathered with wings and beautiful voices
Four winged and colorful that hatched from eggs.
Today ‘twas the four legged ‘n’ furry variety
They’re boisterous and large and full of fun.
They exclude my spaniel from their society,
Cos they’re more than scared of my little one.
When we go for a walk in the woods
The sign says “Witches’ Spring Trail”
As they hide in their long black hoods
I hear their screech and their wail.
The wee folk are all around us
Hiding behind misshapen stumps,
Sitting on roots that nearly ground us
And jagged rocks and in tangled clumps.
While time is told by dandelion clocks
The witches are searching for tasty morsels
Their laughter echoes off the rocks
A dog maybe, or perhaps a mortal?
“Gory River Road” – such images that raises!
Witches performing rites of the past
Fire for the cauldron brightly blazes
Red blood flows where river runs fast.
With zeal their cauldron they tend,
As the wind howls down through the cavernous canyon
Gnarled shapes of trees to twist and bend
As it has for eons, like a ravenous demon.
The bird-dog keeps up a healthy pace
No movement spies in such ghastly doom
No bird encounters but checks the space,
Searching everywhere in the gloom.
The witches’ cackle is behind us now.
I turn to watch as we round the bend.
Goblins sit on the oak’s strong bough
As homeward to fireplace our way we wend.
My furry friends have kept the sprites at bay
So back into the sunshine we appear.
Another completed venture for today
As through the meadow now our course we steer.
The car’s not hijacked by elves or gnomes
Witches stayed beside their watery spring
Our car waits patiently to take us home
But deep in the woods fairy magic is king.
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