Writhing Wraiths (An Aebecedian Poem)
After dark on Summer’s Eve they sashay,
Beneath the silver shade at river’s edge.
Cavorting, dancing, prancing hand in hand
Dancing were Witches of the meadow glade.
Enchanting – Giselle, Xena, Marilee,
Flowing in circles go the haunting three
Giselle’s lilting laughter filling the night
Having a grand, and joyous holiday.
Into the night they danced and pranced, and sang.
Just wistful wraiths whirling the hours away
Keeping the cackling spirit world at bay.
Marilee merrily marching, matching beat.
Naughty pulsing, insatiable heat,
Offering their spirits to god Mother
Quaking, praying, shaking with a shiver
Rapping with jungle music all around
Surrounded by the eerie night time sounds
To them a question comes from hot thin air
Unspoken but felt deep within their souls
Very close, it whispered on the wind,
“What would writhing Witches want?” the god said.
Xena replied “Oh! Just to fly away.”
Zoom! On Brooms, the grass witches flew away.