The witch

i will arise in twilight
and go to forest tree
and a small cottage build there,
of thatch and twigs made;
cauldron will i have there,
potion of white bees wings
and crows feet
and live alone in magical wood

And shall i cast spells there,
for incantations come dropping into
dreams slow,
dropping from the veils of
darkness,
to where small children sleep;
there nightfall’s all a shadow,
and moon a purple glow,
and evening full of bats wings

i will arise in twilight
for always there is night,
i hear wind tapping
with sounds upon window pane;
while i ride upon the sky
and above the rooftops gray,
i will always feel their fear deep
in breathing’s silent depth.

Copyright © 01/16/2016 lance sheridan®

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