Fairies flying with a sense of dread,
Nowadays everything hangs on a thread.
I have the same hymns stuck in my head,
Coiled through my brain’s silk web.

Where is it that I head to next?
After all it is I, the pixies vex.
Forgiveness isn’t bought with the context,
There’s nothings left for you to perplex.

By the Wiccans in the hiding trees,
Near the Pagans gifting honey from the bees.
Find the witches worshipping Earth on their knees,
The forest’s harbouring so much dirt and beans.

Pretty girl in a bohemian dress,
Fine tapestry made from gypsies in distress.
Puffing the jaded grass for the ladybugs to rest,...