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PaGe4B - 10.29.25

In Salem town where whispers wind,
Where shadows coil and candles shine,
A woman walks in robes of night—
Her eyes like stars, her heart alight.

The cobblestones remember flame,
The cries, the fear, the whispered blame.
But she stands tall where others fell,
And weaves her truth to break the spell.

Black cat watching, soft and still,
Moonlight bends to her iron will.
She speaks to roots, to stone, to sea,
She calls it science, calls it free.

The old gods stir where mortals sleep,
Through crystal light their secrets seep.
She teaches not to curse or bind,
But heal the soul and wake the mind.

Her craft is love, her wand is thought,
Her altar — every dream she's wrought.
No fear, no shame, no mask, no lie,
She wears her magic bold and high.

For Salem's ghosts still hum her name,
Not in terror, nor in blame.
But in the hush of autumn air—
A promise: the witches are still there.