by Elizabeth Barrette
a Witch's garden
grows with the sun, flows with the rain
a flowering of air and earth
ancient is the knowledge of herbs
their properties and powers
a thing for Grandmothers, Midwives, Witches
flowers speak their own language
all but a few phrases forgotten
but Witches know more than roses mean love
how now? the drought comes
but the Witch's garden still grows green
though elsewhere even the weeds are wilting
through magic and the hard work of her hands
a Witch brings the rich earth to bloom
making the world a more beautiful place
the only secret is this
many a woman talks to her plants
but a Witch also listens
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