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The Coven

In the moonlight, on the hill, 

Stand three women.

 One broad and helmeted,

Armoured chest and red dress,

Singing arias in the wind.

Though she flickers in and 

Out of view.

Another glints like iron,

Her face as sharp as knives

As starlight glistens on her skin

She smiles in cruel victory

Molten metal in her veins.

The last could be made of stone,

Her flesh changes as she moves

One second granite

Another marble

Then just too-pure human

Her smile is one of freedom

Though her eyes speak of pain

Not long covered by the dust.

Spirit, stone and iron

Unite to meet the moon

Hands grasped in circle

To summon magic in the dusk. 
They came to join their power

Give thanks and absolve crimes

To worship and call out

To sisters far and wide

Covens we’er the moon shines

Crying out in unison.
She came to each and every one,

The moon, in glittering form,

Witchfolk in the mountains,

Merfolk in the tides,

These three broken sisters

Who grasped each other tight.
To Valkyrie she gave a tune

To make mortal men dissolve

Weep at ethereal beauty

When they heard her songs.

Iron faerie looked at Moon

She knew her of old,

One thing she asked of her

To find her foe’s last hold.

Galatea smiled as wide

When moon came unto her

She whispered in the night

To know the names of husband’s ilk

And hunt them with the wolves.
Sisters came, sisters part,

To travel far again,

They gave their blessings to the moon.

As she faded with the dawn 

They grasped each other close

Soon parting, soon to follow dreams 

Bestowed upon their heads,

They looked each other in the eyes,

And prepared to exchange gifts.
The Valkyrie sparkled in the dawn,

Though she faded in the light,

She taught the two battle-hymns,

Sung of war, of death and spite,

That would cause men to fight ,

Die at their command,

If neccessity should strike

Ho-Jo-To she sang aloud

Music of carrion-flight.
Iron Faerie cnjured forth

Vines of sproutlings

From the ground

Instead of leaves and greenery

Metal sparked from roots to end 

She stroked them as they rose around her

Smiling sadly as she did, 

Then broke two branches with her hands

Giving one to each of them,

Silvery iron ivy sprigs

That would keep them safe and sound.
The stone-born lady sighed,

Took from her travel bags

A hammer and a chisel,

That changed form in the light,

As her own skin did,

Granite, Marble, flesh like,

Though as the day broke she

Became more human-like,

She gave Valkyrie the hammer,

Held her as she began to fade

The Iron one she gave the Chisel

To remind her

That in destruction

New things can still be made.
With that the three parted,

Sad smiles as each let go,

Valkyrie faded in the dawn,

Until only sparkles left,

Iron Faerie spoke a spell,

And walked out on faerie paths,

Galatea took her pack,

And with a last longing look,

Walked off into the woods.

This is dedicated to my dear friend and writing partner, the ever wonderful Izzy Jones, who is a warpaint wearing glitter throwing mess of fabulosity, and also an all round wonderful person. 
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Lots of love,

Henry

xx

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