[Prayers Before Meals]

Methinks somewhere in this book called bible there is an admonition to go into a closet if you wish to pray.

"And when ye pray, pray not as the Gentiles do, on street corners or in groups showing everyone how good they are at praying, instead go into a secret place and say thy prayer to My Father". Or sumfink like that anyway, depending on what Bible you read.

Revd John

[A Small Boys Memories]

~ That's definately a depressing & distressing image. Sorry that is in your mind.

Remember, these poems were penned around 1992. They aren't in my mind anymore. If I could find just one more that I have lost it would set you crying, problem is, i didn't pen it, the writers name is not known to me.

Rev.d John

[A Small Boys Memories]

Again this is a copywrited work.

A WEE BOYS TALE

Me mam was sweepin the floor when there wis a knock at the door.

Me mam said "Answer it, its yer Aunty Glynn"

But it wasnae.

They kicked down the door like just wasn't there

My mother they saw and began to stare

"She's a Witch alright, just look at her hair!"

" And that Besom she's got under the stair!"

They stripped my mum bare to look for the mark that just wasn't there!

Then they raped her and dragged her out by her long, black hair.....

On the day of her hanging, my family was crying

"Where is she?" they cried

"LOOK? She's coming!

The Priest said his prayers as she climbed up the stairs

To where the noose went round her neck.

Someone shouted "She's only a woman, let her go!"

The soldier who raped her replied "She's a Witch and whore, on with the show!"

As he fondled the wiatress and guzzled his beer.

The door opened up and my mum fell through

But, before she died she looked at me and said "Hate not son, Goddess bless"

JT Walker-Smith

[A Young Mans Sillyness]

Again, this work is mine and is copywrited.

An explanaition for my American Brothers and Sisters. The term TWITCH was first coined by myself in 1991 to put the words Witch and Twit together, the word TWIT in England means "being a bit of a fool, unthinking sillyiness etc". The poem will explain what I was thinking back then about some things that were happening in the Craft in the local area. Mates are friends. A WHELP is a young pup just off the "milk Bar" to "go for someone" is to think they are great, well dressed, cool.

THE TWITCH

With one degree under my belt

I said "YESSSSS! I am no longer a whelp!"

I went out to show what a Witch could do,

All dressed in black from my head to my shoe.

With a BIG pentagram over my heart

My eyes were aglow.

I slick back my hair, I haven't a care

For I am a WITCH!! You had better take care!

I run into some mates

They are stood there with their dates.

I think, "YEAH! they'll go for me

In my black drapes"...

One looks round and falls to the ground laughing and rolling around

The others look on their eyes full of scorn.

One says "What the f^&% are you on?"

I look at him and mutter

"I am a Witch"

They all looked at each other then laugh and then holler

"BILLY!! P&** OF AND GET A LIFE!!!"

I walk away crying, in my heart I am dying.......

I am not really a Witch............Am I?

I am a Twitch...............

Help me?............................Please?

JT Walker-Smith

[Grey Stone Fingers]

PLEASE DO TAKE NOTE THAT, ALL POEMS ARE MY OWN WORK AND THUS ARE COPTWRITED, ANY PERSON ILLEGALY COPYING OR USEING THE WORK WILL BE PROSCECUTED.

GREY STONE FINGERS

A road a path a field nearby, with grey stone fingers that point to the sky.

A guard walks by, it makes me cry..........

The y come by the car load, bus loads to

On the eve of the longest day

To pray

or, so they say.......

Fat ones, skinny ones, losers all

to get pissed up and have a bawl..

"HEY!!! LOOK??? Thats where I carved my name,

I was so stoned I could barely crawl"......

With knife and chisel

paint pot too

They climb the fence, their work to do......

Its no wonder its barred from me.............And you......BUT!

Have a think!........

Can you imagine it?

The moons full bright!

The candles glow.

The drum beats loud and the Pan Pipes blow

Pagans, Witches, Druids too, on with robe and of with shoe!

We circle the Alter - The stars shine bright

But, none can compare with our eyes this night.

The music starts and of we go! With glittering eye and twinkling toe.

We EKO! EKO! to the night. Our Goddess, the moon, is in our sight.

All of a sudden the Priestess shouts STOP!!!!

And we all sit down, in a bit of a flop.

My old heart is hammering

My eyes are aglow..............Man o man can you imagine it

Could it be so?

JT Walker-Smith