Deep beneath the shade and power

Of this Tree we call our Tower

Day is fleeting, shadows fall

Across the path our feet touch all

End to end this Circle’s path

Blazing, shining, as we laugh

Dance the merry round with spark

As we Witches tread the dark

Wheel turning, eight-rayed sun

Spiral-serpents birth the One

Crescent moon lays down her claim

To her lover hanging lame

And we the Witches of WildWood

Stand where ancient stones once stood

Now the Greening seeks the Grove

And that which rests in treasure trove