A Witches Veiw.

The proudest of witches
the proudest they be,
from their fire to their earth
and around as wind cast out to the western sea,

Love thy teacher
and swear to their goddess.
It is the fest of love.

The proudest of Wiccans',
The proudest they are.
From western winds...
Flying high on brooms
Soaring to the farest stars.

To be one you're blessed.
To know their ways...
Now here is our time,
after so many dark, dark days.

The proudest of souls.
The proud mother of thee,
She branches out a hand...
as loving as mother tree can be.

The smartest of witches
the most beautiful they be.
Loving, caring, beautiful...
all so blessed they be.