The Witching Hour
 

The wind in the willow
no longer whispers comfort,
The wind in the willow
howls like a wolf abandoned and hurt.

The man in the moon
no longer smiles down on the earth below,
The man in the moon
bask its' glow on the nights hosts.

The fiery light only chills the soul
Stirring fright
Sending shadows for all to behold,
Shadows of the night

The empty sound of the last bells toll
the time has drawn nigh
The witching hour takes hold
Sixty minutes slowly pass by

Witches take flight
Spirits wake and troll the night
Careful to lurk just out of sight
Hiding again before days' light

The moon again begins to smile
It's fiery gleam returns to a glow
The howl becomes a soft comforting whisper
The wind in the willow


Katheran Crawford 2004
sitecn@aol.com













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