To all my sisters
A runner sent down from the distant hill
To let them know the evil has now flashed
So they now may pray together and mill
The lazy brown lake their witches are dashed
Fine straw and dried wood piled and set ablaze
The screaming bonnets and melting red curl
Ashes melt to a fine smoldering haze
Flames a breeze as hanging dresses unfurl
Children and dogs wander the village mead
Women return to stove’s simmering pot
Idol standing mules await men to lead
Diggers shovel in a grass vacant lot
Christian justice has once again been found
As young innocent girls lie burned and bound
© Copyrights G. Jones 2012
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