The Ancient Ones Poem by Edwin Robinette

Hooded mysterians of legend
Cauldrens of boiling mass
Concocting spells of good and evil
Among tall stones and trampled grass

A conglomeration of bearded ones
Spread fear across the land
Scores fall by sorcery, one by one
At their perplexing hand

The ancient ones claim knowledge
By incantation and torch light
Chanting is heard for many a mile
Time pushes forward the unholy night

At beginnings of a breaking dawn
The elders move away
Among their peers and rivalrys
To hide another day