Form: Novelinee
In sliver gown she waltzes o'er the sky,
in rhythmic steps upon the autumn breeze,
All Hallow’s night when harbingers stop by,
the Moon, she dances where the Pagan sees.
A tribal drum recalls the cadence past,
as ancient souls trip along darker realms,
the witches chant within the circles cast,
before the kiss of dawn shall overwhelm
the legerdemains of the sacred elm
©JGFarmer2009
A Garret Poet 
Reblogged this on About the Jez of It.
LikeLike