Witch’s curse, poem.

type102

Dark skies

witch flies

to her home

on a broom

warts on her face

gloves made of lace

black cat on the table

beside the pot ladle

mixing a potion

devoid of emotion

standing chuckling

like an ugly duckling

thinking up a spell

to raise hell

for an innocent person

she mixes while cursin’

with a witch’s curse

you’ll end up in a hearse

Can be seen at poets corner

Advertisements

2 responses to “Witch’s curse, poem.

I appreciate any comments you leave, and thank you for reading my posts and please call back again.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s