The Craft
Turn, count the points, North, South
West, East and call the wind so lightly,
Go slowly widdershins, walk and chant
watch the air particles shine so brightly,
Glistening with the ice from the cold
sun can't catch it, melt it or obscure,
Draw the circle, light the blue flames
see the smoke dance as it starts to pour,
Forming animal spirits, running fast
they are held by the salt on the ground,
Call them to you one and all, that's it
just a drop of blood and they're bound,
Ancient trees rustle their leaves in fear
say not the name from the old grimoire,
For every spell there's a high price to pay
as shown on the skin, by every thin scar,
Don't dabble in magic, don't pay the cost
the price is much too high on your soul,
Skies speak their warning, flowers to dust
power is taken from earth, blackest toll,
So much, so many, an infinite number
squeezed for the merest drop of a potion,
Won't make it right, nor bring them back
but no time for regrets, wheels in motion.

Tribute poem for the film by the same title

© .Garry Saunders