I did not grow up with fairy tales,
No princes rode through misty vales.
Instead, I found my guiding stars
In whispered spells and knowing eyes.

Not Superman, nor Gotham’s knight,
But witches robed in wisdom’s light.
Laurie, Maxine, and Starhawk’s fire,
Each word they spoke, my soul’s desire.

Phyllis dreaming, Delores strong,
Patricia chanting sacred song.
The Farrars’ Craft, so bold, so true,
A path they walked, a path I knew.

I read their works with eager hands,
I traced the circles in the sand.
With every page, with every rite,
They shaped my soul, they lit my night.

Yet time, relentless, moves its way,
And even those whose names we pray
Must bow before the turning wheel,
A truth both bitter and too real.

I saw them once, their voices worn,
Yet still they stood, still they adorned
The world with all they chose to give,
A legacy that longs to live.

I may not share their sacred space,
Nor ever meet them face to face.
But in my heart, their fire stays,
A beacon bright through darkened days.

For those who do not know my name,
Yet shaped my heart, still all the same
I honor you in whispered breath,
In circle cast, in life, in death.

And though you may not know my face,
You’ve led me to my rightful place.
No crowns, no thrones, just love and lore,
A Witch’s path, forevermore.