Fathom Out The Lugubrious Mind Of A Witch. Poem by Anthony Fry

A wicked scandalous life of human passions,
of despair, urban legends, a lewd feudalism.
A secret society very often of young Women,
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries gatherings.

Using magic powers preponderance of trickery,
witch-craft, sorcery, evil devices, wailing spells.
Enchanted coercion of wisdom, interpretation,
floating, cunning, suspicious, bottomless pits.

Paganism of early Europe with midnight sabbats,
to worship the devil himself as their true god.
Midnight with the elements thunder rumbling,
full moon, ghostly clouds, narrow winding lanes.

Accompanied in their uproarious merriment,
with the loudest peal of an unearthly laughter.
Those who have pierced the dancing shadows,
in cold dark imposed picturesque moonlight.

Theories about cultic practises, ancient customs,
unique ancient prerogatives, shiny black cats.
Fathom out the lugubrious mind of a witch,
that wonderful charm in her face you will rue it! .

I have a notion you might explore earth's depths,
investigate dolmens with a plumimet or spade.
Unless your a cynical chump or ignorant churl,
your brain emerges from the fray fixed in a whirl.

Reality being more complex, savage intensity,
frowsty by a fire stirring a timeless cauldron.
Worshipping a Devil who appears as a cow,
a dog, a hare, a rat, a weasel, a frog, a man.

Maidens leading ravished incited coven lives,
aroused from her repose to do diabolical evil.
Caught riding her broomstick across a night sky,
her foundations are silenced and banished forever.