The Season of the Witch

Most of the country is hushed out there

As the Moon climbs over the hill,

The creatures out in the wild beware

And the air is breathless, still,

The deer is stood at the edge of the wood

Afraid to go in too soon,

With the animals skittish, out in the yard

A hare stares up at the Moon.

There’s something amiss in the air tonight

Both furtive and dark, unclean,

Shadows are lurking by old stone walls

In wait for a sign to be seen,

The men all sit in a vacant trance

As the women go out by the ditch,

Wearing their smoke-black cloaks in the dance

For the Season of the Witch.

 

Then like the flutter of vampire bats

The witches take to their brooms,

Hang on to their tall black pointed hats

And fly low over the tombs,

They head in a swarm up Gallows Hill

Fulfilling some ancient rite,

While watchful eyes at the window-sill

Will get little sleep this night.

 

For Alison, Lindy, Carmen and Deb

Are watching their mothers leave,

Tucked into bed as their mothers’ fled

The girls creep out to deceive,

Pulling the curtains aside they see

The flight go over the hill,

And hear the cackling sounds of glee,

Then the air is cold and still.

 

Then Lindy calls to the other three

Through the window out to the farm:

‘Let’s climb up there, where we all can see

What they’re doing from high in the barn!’

So they dress themselves in their winter cloaks

And they put on their witches hats

That the mothers had made for Halloween,

Had decorated with bats.

 

They climbed up over the stacked up hay

To the roof of the timbered barn,

And they peered from the moonlit bullock dray

To the trees by the hilltop farm,

But the witches danced in a grove of trees

Quite hidden from anyone’s sight,

‘Let’s take our brooms,’ said Alison Keys

‘And fly while the Moon is bright!’

 

‘Let’s fly while the Moon is bright,’ she said,

So they stood at the edge of the hay,

Looked down to the old paved cattle yard

And the tractor, over the way.

‘We saw them fly, we can do it too,

We’re witches tonight, we’ve seen!

Tonight is the magical mystery night

For witches - it’s Halloween!’

 

They mounted their broomsticks, held their breath

Then leapt each one with a scream,

They dropped like stones to the cattle yard

On the night of Halloween,

They were found impaled on the thresher blades

That was parked beside the ditch,

And the screams could be heard a mile away

In the Season of the Witch!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Pratik]

That was such quite a twist!! I have always loved your writing.. because its like reading a story. It reminds me of my childhood when i would retire to the bed at 9.. on a stormy night with a book tucked in my arms and those were the times i would believe everything in that book was true: witches, fairies, monsters, talking animals.. Your poems for me act like a time machine: they come with an ancient old-world charm. It's like the fragrance of yellow, moth-eaten pages of a book that always make you feel good but in a weird way.... This one was no different.. It builds the plot stanza by stanza and then at the end BANG! You come up with something when the readers are least expecting it.... Thank you sir for the read! It was quite enjoyable...

[Jane Dougherty]

I like poems that tell a story. This one is nicely nasty.

[Barbara Walker]

Love your stories in poetic form. They are rich with imagery, place and time!

[A.r. Bazian]

i did not see the ending coming!
what a turn!
this poem is very quick and witty, and is lively with verse!
i must say... my friend... your poetry's rather addictive!

[ms. barrie]

I once again, loved this, darkly delightful with it's vivid imagery, visions of witches lurking in forests, under beds, flying high in the wind, very reminiscent of dark nursery rhymes a parent *s* would tell their children to finally get them into their beds...or ELSE. wonderfully penned, as always thanks for sharing

[Jazique]

Im just loving this, its like listening to the Grimm's tales. Reallt i never thought of Halloween as the witches night but, it explains where the cackling comes from Anyways love the descriptions and everything and how thw suspense and eberything rises as you read outloud. Anyways well done to a spooky tsle ti end the night i think the parr i enjoed the most when we got to the little girld because of the wsy it flowed. bravo.

[Alice Crypt; Brittany]

Perfect read for the coming of Halloween! Aaran's review really hit the mark.

[Larry Dyson]

hmmm trying to remember who sang that song in the 1960's..can hear it plainly..donovan?LAury

[John Phoenix Hutchinson..]

Congratulations this poem has been "approved" for publication in...

THE MAGICAL MYTHICAL MYSTERY COMPENDIUM.
-Metaphysical, Mystical & Fantastical Poetry of the Arcane

By John Phoenix Hutchinson and Others. (c) 2012

Please feel free to submit other poems as you are not limited to one entry. Also please write a short "bio" about yourself and send to me via private message. This will be published along with your poem. Thanks J.P.H.

Anyone wanting to make Submissions to this Writers Cafe "e" book Project can do so on my group page, the deadline is 1st of November 2012.

[John Phoenix Hutchinson.]

Thanks David.

[Patricia B. Hepler]

Aaran's review is precise and very well phrased. I totally agree.
*pat

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Wow! Another good twist...