Sacred Wicca

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On Dark Moon Night,
The owl takes flight.
Crossroads are best,
To begin your quest.

By candle flame,
We chant Her name.
With incense smoke,
Hecate invoke.

Her howling black dog,
And Her sacred frog.
With knife and cords,
And magick words.

Her snake sheds skin,
To end and begin.
She holds the key,
To unlock mystery.

With willow and yew,
Magick comes through.
She takes us down,
To the underground.

Recover and rest,
Did we do best?
Her Cauldron bubbles,
She soothes our troubles.

With cord and blade,
Our memory will fade.
She brings us back,
In her magick sac.

©Rowan Morgana 2011