By Moonshine Full
Under the oak tree, by moonlights gleam,
Mixing potions for him to dream.
Henbane his mind to turn insane,
Nightshade to burn his heart aflame.
Poppets of cloth, entwined with hair,
Thrown to fire, her spell to share.
The cackle of laughter the sound I hear,
Through gown of night, and smell of fear.