A full moon rose
Lighting up the sand dune
‘Neath the inky sky
Gathering throng
Tension rising
Torches bright and high

But the Sand Witch is so misunderstood
When she calls her tune
Feel the harmony
No eye of newt, no toe of a frog
Could she boil or bake
For her that would be agony

What we call
Is grounded in the evidence
Cauldron on the fire
Black cat prowling
Surely her familiar
We heard Satan’s choir

On a stone she’s carving a rune
She casts her spell
Hear the dune sing
Digger wasps and burrowing bees
Find their sanctuary
Sheltered under her wing

Beyond the reaches of the tides
Live toads and lizards and butterflies
Fragmented shells moved by wind and wave
To damp dune slacks and labyrinthine caves
Kidney vetch and carline thistle
Cross-leaved heather and tiger beetle
This plethora of living things
With her as Queen live the life of kings

The Sand Witch is so misunderstood
When she calls her tune
Hear the dune sing
Green grass snake and natterjack toad
Find their sanctuary
Sheltered under her wing