Sunday, 18 March 2012

Journey Through The Shadows..

 It was time, both dreaded and joyous,

  For Magda and I, to say our farewells.

I knew well, the magickal place to which she was heading

But still,

I lingered, half hoping she'd stay.

In she climbed and patiently waited.
So, I swaddled her there, with incantations and cloth.

When I lifted my eyes, she was gone.

Thursday, 1 March 2012

The Poison Spitter

I know you know her. 

She, who on the stillest nights, lurks in sleepless corners with acrid breath and acid tongue.

 A vile one, earless, for hers is a monologue. The whisperer of doubt and vicious reprimands.

 You may cover your ears and squeeze shut your eyes, but her slow poison has entered and drips, drips, drips down to your core.