Please Forgive me Mary

She tells a tale of witches in Maidstone who were hung,
On Penenden Heath — by the neck they were strung.
Accused and murdered for sorcery — she now knows that’s not true,
But mass mania of witchery did cause a cry and hue.
A miscarriage of justice, and now’s the time to say:
Pardon the witches of Maidstone, so in peace they may lay.

A ghost from the past whispered this harrowing, heartfelt tale,
Bringing the story close — and shocking without fail.
It seemed that of these witches, one who was called Mary Reade,
Had been accused of witchery — and a Stedman had fuelled the feed.
An Elizabeth Stedman was one who accused Mary of an act,
That caused a man to drop down dead — as with the devil she’d made a pact.

Listening to whispers of what her ancestor sadly caused,
Elizabeth may be hoping that forgiveness opens its doors.
This was the seventeenth century — and mania spread through our lands,
The printing press took its place, and pens spread rumours by malevolent hands.
Times were hard and people were poor, crops failed and loved ones died;
“Let’s blame the witch,” the pens did say — “there’s one!” the people cried.

Pointing, cursing, words they flew — “that witch is full of tricks!”
“Catch her, torture, make her confess — poke her with the pricks!”
And so poor Mary was one of these, a victim of her time,
A strange cyst beneath her tongue being her only truthful crime.
Mary Reade was innocent — and Elizabeth regrets her role;
These words are written to grant at last, some mercy on their souls.

These witches need no written act to say they were betrayed;
We know they were all innocent — and remained so to their dying day.
Let’s forgive the accusers for being naïve, believing the evil pen;
We’ve not learned many lessons — it happens again and again.
The media still spreads its lies — and we, we go on reading,
While writers thrive, and with their words, know the evil that they’re breeding.