Four noble witches down in the glen 

Gather at twilight-time to begin 

Chanting to light the fires within 

Prepping the cauldron for use therein 


One gives the bones of a love now lost 

One donates gold to cover the cost 

One offers herbs refreshed from the frost 

One offered wine while chanting her prost 


Once they disrobed, they danced by the fire  

While the cauldron seethed in fierce desire

Weaving magic with all they aspire 

Giving their spell room to transpire  


Dancing beneath the eye of the moon 

These four women began to commune 

Lost within a mysterious tune 

Of which the cauldron tried to attune 


The witches danced ‘til dawn’s early light 

Blessing the magic conceived that night 

When they were through, I watched them take flight 

But their spell, my friends, is not mine to cite 

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