In the bottle rests my pee
Collected under a darkling moon
And pared down fingernails, overgrown
Some bits of hair and rusty nails
Brass tacks, and a leather pierced
By a nail, which bent at odd angle
Upside down in hidden grave, it lies
So on the evil doer, it rebounds
Until that she, herself, soon die
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
For those afraid a witch may have cast a spell upon them.
If all goes well, the trick will cast the spell back on the witch,
perhaps killing her — or so goes a 17th century witchcraft belief.
Now, Patti this is an adventurous attempt.. Impressive, imposes the 17th on me, and I cannot see you there, but maybe only to enchant me with your wordry, imagery and a careful almost demure style of writing.. Am I a guest, a host, a friend to share? I 'll be everything, one of my poems you liked a lot, and I was proud! Make me proud again, I believe in that charismatic smile and mind! ..
Good and imaginative - and perhaps real, Patty...King James (just after Elizabeth 1) might have added this in his history of witchcraft if he only knew this..humorous and scary too...
I smile to it! I like witch stories. And yours! Enchantress is the word for the female sorceress and my latest poem.
To dangerous for me. I'd get drunk and drink you know what. I'm better off suffering the spell. Loved it! What man doesn't love a witch.
Intriguing piece of historical smile and all the while she sits protected.. Being a pagan I love this breath of fresh ole air. Thanks. Karen :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Quite the informer my friend. Bits and tidbits are very worthy and interesting. I bet those were some wild old days to be living. Especially if around the witchcraft believers and do'ers........ Can you imagine? ......... Jim