Samhain
The passing of the autumn equinox, and the end of October,
now signal everyone it is the first day in November.
The leaves of the forest are brown, red, and gold.
Trees foretell of the coming of winter’s cold.
A local coven gathers in the early morning moonlight.
They join hands and form a circle in the pre-dawn night.
These witches are here for a most festive reason.
It is the Sabbath of Samhain, the end of harvest season.
Among the witches is my red-haired beauty.
Through a flame’s soft amber light, I can barely see.
With her broom, chalice, book of shadows, and an athame,
she joins the others in calling the spirits by name.
People have the wrong idea. She is not at all bad.
This redhead doll excites me when she is sky-clad.
Although there is an autumn chill in the morning air,
none of the witches feels it, or seems to care.
At the end of the esbat, with the coming of the dawn’s light,
I hope to be spending some time with this red-haired delight.
She fascinates me so much. Everything seems right.
In the daylight or the darkness, she is a wonderful sight.
Copyright © Robert Pettit | Year Posted 2012
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