On a roll jelly belly
*Jake I borrowed your pet tiger for this foray.


Precisely Half Past

The Woodswitch strikes a Lucifer at p;recisely half past three
When the nightwind's in the attic where her tiger prowls
Shaking her head unbinds her hair and the shadows which reside
Inside a deep and sleepless sea taking a candle she peers outside,
I sometimes hear things in my dreams which never find the light
And hold the cold unholy limbs of trees where others find fright,
I can see her without looking from the corners hidden well
Underneath those velvet leaves, other prisoners of her spell,
Their names with human sounds writing down letters which were thought to be
Knowing better now I wait and watch them fall in files
When the nightwind's in the attic where her tiger prowls
The Woodswitch strikes a Lucifer at precisely half past three...




Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 611 times
Written on 2013-04-10 at 23:14

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I seriously like this poem. I'm in sun-baked, over-cooked Los Angeles and you penetrate the light with your darkery. I look around for Heathcliff.
2013-04-11


Commentally Ill
at precisely half past midnight, the sounds coming from my room are agitated howls and odd guttural mutterings which could give any tiger goosebumps. witchery? why, no- i've only stubbed my toe. yee-owtch!!
2013-04-11