/ the Hexing Myrrh

Painstakingly across the fallow Walking From all directions, the villagers coming Unwavering steps, the hamlet behind forsaking To the river bank, they all were heading. The moon, the sky still ruling, lambent Through the wood they all unusually silent The senesced, vernal as well as the infant Heedlessly crunching the fall path oddment By the stream they stood thoroughly expecting The faintest breeze down vehemently hushing For the long lost sound carefully watching A blossoming bud, verdant spring announcing. Just before cockcrow, stemmed the flower The long waited , witching creature Casting sense hexing myrrh Over the villagers a refreshing zephyr.