At Forres is a large round stone,
A relic of the days by gone;
For here there were two witches burned,
Underneath their ashes urned.
A man with veneration small
Broke stone and built it in his wall,
But the authorities of town
Made him full quickly pull them down.
Replace each piece, and it environ
With large bars of good Scottish iron ;
May fine old town thrive and adorn
The beauteous banks of the Findhorn.
Witch Stone
James Mcintyre
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Poem topics: good, small, wall, iron, town, large, stone, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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