Witch

Witch, I whisper. Beautiful is she
Among the dappled woodlands of the night.
She stands before the altar, radiant sight,
A stunning priestess of the Goddess Three.

Witch, they hiss, in streets of filthy towns
At she who brought the herbs and healed the child.
They wanted drafts of love and potions wild
But now make signs behind their velvet gowns.

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