The following poem was written way back in the 90s. It was originally a song and the music was provided by my husband. I wrote quite a few songs in those days, including one called ‘The Life of Charlotte Bronte wasn’t all it was cracked up to be’ and ‘I Trouble’. If I come across the ‘Life of Charlotte Bronte’ I may get the nerve up to actually put it on here (and risk being chased by some irate Bronte fans – even though I’m really one myself).
Voodoo dancing enhances the skin,
Kabalistic chants – where do I begin?
Voodoo dancing – out with the cloak,
Horned one, winged one – I thee invoke.
Just the thing to start a Friday night,
It can set you up for days – if you do it right.
Voodoo dancing – thought enhancing,
Voodoo dancing – stone romancing,
Voodoo dancing – ego tripping,
Voodoo dancing – bodice ripping
Voodoo dancing – finger the flame,
Cursing the council (use magical name)
Voodoo dancing let it begin,
Blood of my enemies – and you know where Its been
Voodoo dancing is here to stay,
A sacrifice here, is the price to pay
Voodoo dancing – the flames leap up,
Let all your frustrations fill up the cup.
You do that Voodoo and you do it well
Bring in the prayer book, candle and bell.
©Lynda M Roberts 1999
image from here