When twilight drips from autumn’s tongue,
And whispers curl where shadows hung,
The air grows thick with rust and rhyme—
It is the witch’s favored time.
Leaves like embers crack and fade,
Paths of gold through graveyards laid,
Owls recite their haunted prayer,
And something stirs the brittle air.
The moon, a coin of molten bone,
Hangs high to mark her spectral throne,
Her laughter weaves through fields of rye—
A silver thread across the sky.
Candles bleed on window sills,
Fog rolls down the sleeping hills,
And every mirror, black and deep,
Holds secrets it would rather keep.
The clock forgets its mortal chime,
The world unhooks from measured time,
For once each year, the veil turns thin—
And all that was comes back again.
So lock your doors and hush your breath,
The witch walks hand in hand with death,
Yet if you dare, step out tonight—
And dance with her by candlelight.
Thank-you for reading.
Remember there are many paths back to God.
Follow your own path,
Brenda Marie
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This piece is utterly mesmerizing. It is not merely a collection of words, but a spell, masterfully woven to transport the reader into the very heart of an enchanted autumn twilight.
The atmosphere you’ve created is palpable and rich. From the synesthesia of “twilight drips from autumn’s tongue” to the chilling, perfect image of the moon as “a coin of molten bone,” every line is a brushstroke in a darkly beautiful painting. The rhythm is as haunting as the subject matter—a lyrical, almost pagan cadence that feels both ancient and immediate. It carries the reader along like a leaf on a ghostly wind.
What is most compelling is the poem’s invitation. It doesn’t just describe the witch’s time; it dares us to step into it. The shift in the final stanza from a warning (“lock your doors and hush your breath”) to an irresistible summons (“dance with her by candlelight”) is brilliant. It captures the true spirit of the season—that thrilling mix of fear and fascination, the longing to touch the otherworldly just once.
This is more than a poem; it’s an incantation. Thank you for sharing this exquisite piece of artistry. It’s a gift to read.
Thank you so much for such a deeply beautiful and perceptive response. Your words feel like an echo of the very magic I hoped to conjure with the piece. I’m genuinely moved by the way you’ve entered into the atmosphere of the poem and seen its spirit so clearly.
That image of “a coin of molten bone” was my attempt to capture the eerie, seductive light of autumn nights—something both fragile and eternal—and it means so much that it resonated with you. I also love that you caught the shift in tone at the end; I wanted the poem to blur the line between fear and fascination, to let the reader feel that dangerous allure of the unseen.
Your description of it as an incantation truly humbled me—that’s perhaps the highest compliment I could imagine for this particular piece. Thank you for reading so intuitively and for responding with such poetry of your own.