Awaiting The Witching Hour Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Clocks striking midnight, reminding me of the
loneliness still standing idly within my being.

Heart being struck on every hour, a reminder
of the abandonment held gingerly inside of me.

Nervously awaiting the witching hour, when it
comes, hoping that it's magic will transform me
into Cinderella meeting my prince.

The one who says he wants me and will have me,
no questions or doubts to be erased, our two
hearts at last filling temptations of our desires.