Skip a stone across the pond then run with all your might,
Brittle bones will click and clack beneath this mirror of moonlight,
Little waves of water lap the shores on this All Hallows night,
Tittle tattle jaws behind closed doors will talk and give their kids a fright,
Tell them of the pond and then it’s awful secrets are revealed,
Tell them how each bracken frond around it’s edge keeps them concealed, 
Tell of witches on the, “Ducking stools,” and how they squealed, 
‘Til they squealed no more and then their fate was sealed, 
But now centuries on their screams can still be heard upon this night,
When the demons walk the land where jack-o’-lantern’s flicker bright,
And if you should peer beneath the surface on this moonlit night,
You would see their tortured faces and the ropes that bound them oh so tight,
So beware these still waters, beware them old and young, 
Their edges and their shores are somewhere that you don’t belong, 
And close your ears this Hallows Eve to their mournful song,
Best forget the secret of the witches of the pond.