A Somnolent Witch

Writing poems is simply delightful! Thoughts and feelings one cannot express directly or one feels no one would understand, find their way in imaginative world which is actually is a reflection of your REAL world.

A somnolent witch went to sleep,
She dreamed till 6.10 in the morning.
She got up from bed,
Dressed up in her thread,
Packed lunch when unceasingly yawning.

A somnolent witch told her son:
"The chocos are waiting for you..."
He opened his eyes,
When saw the sunrise -
The day promised all the things new.

A somnolent witch gaped again,
When they both were ready to go
With bags on their backs,
With bright zodiacs,
By road which resembles a bow.

A somnolent witch worked till midday,
She rushed home to be with her son.
She put him to sleep,
Cleaned up the antique,
The rest of the work was all done.

A somnolent witch was so happy,
Though days became tougher for her.
Run up and run down
Without a frown -
That's how to learn live in a whir.


Yours faithfully
Witchcraft and literature.

Let Me Be Witch

By the time I knew it, Muse visited me again,offering a somehow witchy piece of poetry. I am afraid glad that this will keep on happening because I felt a sudden need of self-expression. Writing about family stuff and such is great, but one needs to let mind work in another direction too, finding answers and relief in the world of imagination. A little sweet poem "Let Me Be Witch" :) Oh, Let me, please! :))

Let Me Be Witch, no boundaries.
Let Me Be Me, have no fear.
I put in a closet my sundries,
Let my delight be sheer.

Let go off mundane, Be You -
Vengeance is not our fate.
Tell them to smell the sundew -
Then free yourself to create.

Let Me Be Witch, I am ready.
Put on a hat and let's go.
Woods always seem to be shady -
Let your red heart be aglow.

Yours sincerely,

Witchcraft and Literature

Inhaling what's not true

My witchy inner-self decided to take a really really long break. Nonetheless, she was never gone and will never be. I do realize one thing very clearly: perhaps I will never be able to become that true pagan but this is in my nature now, and I do see sprouts of it here and there.

Today, to my own surprise, my muse (to her own surprise, I believe, too) wrote this short poem... Though the poem has a more or less melancholic tune, I feel light within.

Inhaling what's not true,
The essence of the thoughts is gone.
I thought you were the one I knew,
But happened, you were never known.

I never knew myself. We come,
We go - the ways are separate.
The only thing is left now - hum,
Though even this will soon evapourate.

Inhaling what's not true,
Deceiving memories of you.
I thought you were the one I knew,
But happened, you were never known.


Sending healing energies and positive waves to all who still are here for me :)

Yours sincerely,

Witchcraft and Literature