The Gift

IMG_1134She bought me this gift, a witches ball.
Just when she got it, I don’t quite recall.
It remained so long in the box,
Found it again when looking for socks,
Put it to the back of the cupboard for sure,
Hadn’t a clue of the things in store.
It is said that you fill the vessel with scent,
It sends spirits away, they came and went.
Hanging up there in the light,
They can’t get in, try as they might.
They bounce off the window, tumble and fall
It offers me protection from them all.
It brought a pivotal change in my life,
When I found out it was made in Fife.
Not far from where we go off to hide,
Off up there in the countryside.
The place where our thoughts we gather,
Oh to be there, whatever the weather.
A place which has me bewitched,
The life I have here would be switched.
Off where future thoughts are rife,
Where we have a different life.
To when where I can make and toil,
A home, with soft garden soil.
Where things will grow, be abundant,
Herbs and foods, self sufficient.

Well my friend, she knows me well
As she weaved her magic spell.
Around the space it would drape,
As the dreams began to shape.
The places about they’d start to drift,
As they began a momentous shift.
To create someone refreshed anew,
Stopping to sip in this unusual brew.
Perhaps a life was better spent,
Doing the thing of which you’ve dreamt
Herbs and spices in the mix,
You think she’s up to her old tricks.
On a journey and make haste,
In to the country you have chased.
Now and then her power to surge.
A moment to Thank her for the urge.
A well thought gift that she would send,
Protecting me, her very dear friend.