Night Spell

Bind the leaves with silver thread,
Pick the bones where the owl has fed.
Simmer the stew with hope and dread,
Pour the wine; break the bread.
Speak the spell where lie the dead
At the hour the sky turns red.
Remember the words the Old One said,
Soul of iron, heart of lead,
Now to Night you are wed.

[Deborah W. Sage is a native of Kentucky, USA. She merged her talent and interest in her first published book of poetry. A former business executive who after years of being committed to the bottom line is gaining equilibrium in her psyche through her endeavors in folklore.]