When Hallowe'en was creepy

Vintage Postcard of the week...

Vintage Postcard of the week...

Fact

KNOTTING SPELL

By the light of candle
Clear your mind, focus on the purpose of the spell
Whisper the words to yourself -- believe
Tie as follows and speak the words of power.

By the knot of one the spell's begun
1-------------------------------------------------

By the knot of two it cometh true
-------------------------------------------------2

By the knot of three it shall be
-------------------------3------------------------

By the knot of four it's strengthened more
------------4-------------------------------------

By the knot of five the spell shall thrive
-------------------------------------5------------

By the knot of six this spell I fix
------6-------------------------------------------

By the knot of seven the stars of heaven
-------------------------------------------7------

By the knot of eight the hand of fate
---8----------------------------------------------

By the knot of nine what's done is mine
----------------------------------------------9---

Crone - Wyley

CRONE

circa 1998
By Graham Wyley

Approach without fear,
you who know me in your heart,
for I speak to you
with the voices of the winds
and the shoreline
is the hem of my robe.

I am the breath of hope
which is born in the East,
the Maiden,
the new morning,
the promise of Spring.

Mine is the power
which burns in the South,
the Mother,
the midday warmth,
the blessings of Summer.

I will draw you to me
as the day fades in the West,
the Wise woman, the healer,
the mourner of the waning year.

And when the bitter wind
blows from the North,
bidding life withdraw,
to rest, to dream,
I beckon you as Crone,
as the Dark Mother,
the seed of life preserved
in the bare Earth,
from which you have been born
and will be born again.

© Graham Wyley
Illustrated Guide to Witchcraft
© Illustration - Stephanie Smith - Crone

from La Belle Dame sans Merci - Keats

from La Belle Dame sans Merci

By John Keats (1795-1821)

Oh what can ail thee knight at arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge is withered from the lake
And no birds sing

I met a lady in the meads
Full beautiful -- a fairy's child
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.