The mourning moon rises
In place of the sun
As the forest cries
The witches become one
Still, the faerie ring glows
On the frosted grass
Our power then grows
‘Round the ice cavern glass
His sacrifice shows us
From death is born life
She is a mistress
The person is the knife
From green leaves to white trees
Dripping icicles
Pine-needles and holly
Pecking, blood-red cardinals
A month of memories
Harvest hath ended
Now Yule log stories
Will soon honor the dead
So forgive and forget
Find peace now and go
The winter pallet
Of woeful tears and snow
Part with your past; start anew
Strengthen your craft and break through
The Writer's Corner 