Pour in blood, and blood-like wine,
To Mother Earth and Proserpine:
Mingle milk into the stream:
Feast the ghosts that love the stream;
Snatch a brand from funeral pile:
Toss it in, to make them boil:
And turn your faces from the sun;
Answer me, if this be done?
Thursday, December 29, 2022
A Spell
Labels:
blue,
cauldron,
john dryden,
photoshoot,
poem,
smoke,
witch,
witchcraft,
witches
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