A witches rhyme

Witches, oh witches, they dance in the night,

Their brooms held high, as they take to flight.

With moonlight as their guide, and stars as their light,

They journey beyond, to places out of sight.

They brew their potions, and cast their spells,

Mixing ingredients, in their cauldrons and wells.

With incantations, they call on the powers,

Of the earth, the moon, and the darkest of hours.

Their magic is ancient, passed down through time,

From generation to generation, it's a legacy divine.

With knowledge and wisdom, they weave their craft,

Honing their skills, as they learn and they laugh.

Their knowledge of herbs, and the natural world,

Is vast and deep, like an ocean unfurled.

They honor the cycles of nature, and the seasons that flow,

And know that balance is key, to life's ebb and flow.

They are not wicked, as some may believe,

But are guardians of nature, and those who grieve.

They offer their gifts, to those who seek,

And help them to heal, when they feel weak.

Their power is not to be feared, but revered,

For they hold a wisdom, that is oftentimes smeared.

They are the keepers of knowledge, and the secrets of old,

And their stories, like spells, have the power to unfold.

So let us honor the witches, and the magic they wield,

For they are the guardians, of the mysteries revealed.

Let us learn from their wisdom, and the lessons they teach,

And embrace the magic of life, that is within our reach.