After reading rishwitch's great diary A Wiccan Witch Goes To Salem I thought it appropriate to post this poem about The Halloween Witch. I found this some years ago and thought it was profound....
The Halloween Witch
Each year they parade her about, the traditional Halloween Witch. Misshapen green face, stringy scraps of hair, a toothless mouth beneath her deformed nose. Gnarled knobby fingers twisted into a claw' protracting from a bent and twisted torso that lurches about on wobbly legs. Most think this abject image to be the creation of a prejudiced mind or merely a Halloween caricature.
I disagree. I believe this to be how Witches were really seen.
Consider that most Witches were women, abducted in the night, and smuggled into dungeons or prisons under the secrecy of darkness to be presented by light of day as a confessed Witch.
Few if any saw a frightened normal looking woman being dragged into a secret room filled with instruments of torture, to be questioned until she confessed to anything suggested to her and to give names or whatever would stop the questions, and the pain.
Crowds only saw the aberration denounced to the world as a self-proclaimed Witch as she was paraded through town en route to be burned, or hanged, or drowned, or stoned, or disposed of in various other forms of Christian love all created to free and save her soul from her depraved body
The jeering crowds viewed the results of hours of torture. The face bruised and broken by countless blows bore a hue of sickly green. The once warm and loving smile gone, replaced by a grimace of broken teeth and torn gums that leer beneath a battered disfigured nose. The disheveled hair conceals bleeding gaps of torn scalp from whence cruel hands had torn away the lovely tresses. Broken twisted hands clutched the wagon for support, fractured fingers with nails torn away locked like groping claws to steady her broken body. All semblance of humanity gone.
This was truly a demon, a bride of Satan, a Witch.
I revere this Halloween Crone and hold her sacred above all. I honor her courage and listen to her warnings of the dark side of man. Each year I shed tears of respect when the mundane exhibit their symbol of Christian love.
(angel ) 6-26-99 Petals & Thorns poetry by angel ) 1993 - 1999
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Everyone should take a look at this interactive from National Geographic Could you have survived the accusations?