I’ll put a spell on you
I’ll make you mine
Come over here – have this apple
A sip of wine?
You caught my eye, you see
Come here. Please be mine.
Follow my gaze, my dear
You’ll soon know why.
I’ll put a spell on you;
You’ll soon be mine.
Her long fingers beckoned me
To look into her sapphire eyes
She put a spell on me
But what a waste of time.
I put a spell on you.
Why aren’t you mine?
It’s not you, it’s me.
It happens all the time.
A thought springs to mind.
Not very kind.
Adds the thought, all cold and dark
It begins to bark
Says the voice, now strong and loud
Menacing and proud
That thought, it makes sense
Words reflect on all things tense
Not really, but what can I do?
Thoughts that are tangible… solid… true.
Of frustration. Of feelings. Of fear…
Or nightmares that are drawing near
SLEEP WELL? Is that all you can say?
Aaarrgghhh!!! Quickly! Bring on All Hallow’s Day!!!
Fortunately, fear fuels a frenzied flee!
The route it takes,
A dearth of direction
Or possible destination
Light both light and bulky
With individual stems
No pretense of following the path
Erratic as though drugged
Challenging the flow
Yet continuing to shock
With both its own mind and mindless
Teeming with energy and murderous rage
The rustle of leafless branches after sunset sound like whispers on the wind… haunting… melodic…. enchanting.
Listen closely to those whispers; focus with intent. Sometimes they carry a message. Listen to the message. Listen to the tone.
Not everything is black and white…
(Posted in part in response to Debbie’s open invitation to a Seven Day Challenge)