Fly by nights for M lady Lisette

narrative verse

 

Fly by nights

 

By horse and hattock let us ride.

Come join me sisters’ step astride

 your trusty broom shall be your steed

No other transport do we need.

 

As we travel far and wide

 to terrorise the country side

We malicious by intent

and so the seeds of all dissent.

 

Why should the peasants sleep in peace

When each of us has said her piece

Brought down a murrain or a curse

Then we shall choose which witch is worse.

 

We journey at the dead of night

 and happily we vent our spite.

We serve our master faithfully.

 and use our spells despitefully.

 

Though fools deny that we exist.

The ancient legends still persist.

Perhaps because they are quite true

But my dears it would not do.

 

For them to know as much as we

their ignorance has set us free.

The morning light will end our flight

 we must get home before sunlight.

 

I will not beat about the bush

the time grows short so we must rush.

Should a stray sunbeam break the spell

 we’ll very quickly go hell.

 

But we are wise enough to know

 when to come and when to go.

 We will appear in normal guise.

It would come as surprise.

 

If our neighbours found that we

 are learned well in witchery.

To them we must appear to be

 a few old wives quite ordinary.

 

We’ll meet again at dead of night

 and on our broomstick we’ll take flight

When honest folk are safe in bed

 but we would rather fly instead

 

and work our mischief secretly.

When there is no one there to see.

A witches work is never done

By daylight underneath the sun.

 

The evils spells we cast at night

 can be undone by bright sunlight.

But in the darkness we can do

 anything that we choose to.

 

Sour the milk, cause pigs to die

and no one thinks to question why

Bar far an aged crone or two

that no one thinks to listen to.

 

Far different from the olden days

 when every body knew our ways.

They used to burn we witches then

 but those days will not come again.

 

For modern men obey new rules

They are poor misguided fools

Convinced that witches don’t exist

They’re quite unable to resist.

 

The mischief that we chose to do

There’s no witchfinders to pursue.

 As there was in olden days

to prevent our wicked ways

 

By horse and hattock we still ride

We still travel far and wide

 to terrorise the country side.

Long may the sisterhood abide.

Tuesday, 10 November 2009