Friday, 2 April 2010


Take notes or something…
I’m working dark magic here;
some irresistible kind of heartbeat
that will draw
all innocents
near unto the flames
and the torrid, dark fires of Hell.

And if you dare to tell on me,
…you mark my words -
be sure to tread
carefully…for Lucifer himself
will surely fly
as frightened birds
in a washing line, thrashing
and turning
and beating his wings,
and will bring all manner of unspeakable
things unto thee.

You shall, of course,
protect me
and my heathen fairy-soup…
until it can be bottled and fed
to you - and make you mine
forever more.

Until then, remain, soldier at my door –
a sentry only for me,
bound there and bonded, unable to leave,
for an unspoken spell of bewitchment on ye…

…and who would have thought it?
Least of all me. For this
didn’t need
to do a thing.


  1. Your poetry twists and turns and endlessly beguiles.

  2. Ah, the sorceress did not have to do a thing to make one love this poem; the words did not need help, they had magic all their own!

  3. Enjoyable read. This one rolls off the tongue and tumbles through my thoughts. Agree with Sam, good to "let percolate a bit."