The Witches’ Spell

SuperMoon

SuperMoon – photo by Wild Thing

Foreword . . . At this time of year, what could be more
perfect
than a reading from the bard himself?

Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d.
Thrice and once, the hedge-pig whin’d.
Harpier cries: ’tis time! ’tis time!

Round about the caldron go;
In the poison’d entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one;
Swelter’d venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first in the charmed pot!

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg, and owlet’s wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf;
Witches’ mummy; maw and gulf
Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark;
Root of hemlock digg’d in the dark;
Liver of blaspheming Jew;
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse;
Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips;
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,
For the ingredients of our caldron.

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

by William Shakespeare

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My Daughter

Light in Dark

Light in Dark – photo by Wild Thing

My darling girl
If I could
I would bear
This sadness
For you

Comfort
I would offer
With open arms
Healing your
Bruised heart

As I hold you
Crooning softly
Telling you
Of your ancestors

How the pain
You feel
Not different
Than the women
Before you

Those tears
In your eyes
Are tears of
Countless others
Stifled at night

Whispered advice
I would give
Borne of wisdom
From these
Strong women

In your veins
Flows courage
Tenacity . . . Power

When adversity
Or death calls
The backbone
Of your heritage
Will be there

Close your eyes
See them
Standing firm
Behind you

Callista, Elizabeth,
Veronica and Ruth
Margaret, Bridget,
Mary and Frances

These women
Keened their loss
Then stood up
Pushed on

You . . .
are never alone
With you
They stand
Forever

This heritage
This lineage
Of endurance
My daughter
Is my gift
To you

Wild Thing ©August 3, 2017

Finding My Voice

Finding My Voice

Finding My Voice – by Wild Thing

I am proud to share with you, the announcement of my first book: Finding My Voice. It’s a Collection of what I consider to be my best poems, paired with some of my photos that have been digitally altered by me.

It’s printed on white paper and the art is full color that has a slight gloss to it. It was my goal to create something unique that would be at home on your bookshelf or your coffee table.

The poetry is some works that have appeared here as well as some that is new. It is my hope that you enjoy it as much as I did putting it together for you.

Get your copy today: Finding My Voice by Wild Thing

Wild Thing

Be Different . . .

Horrible first day
No friends
Everyone
Made fun of her 

She came home
Went right upstairs 

Grandma waiting
Saw her
Tear stained face 

Mamma too busy
Making supper
Didn’t look up 

In her head
She heard Grandma
   “What’s the matter honey?” 

They always spoke
Telepathically
Mamma said it was rude 

“Nothing Grandma …”

   “Don’t you nothing me” 

“I’m sorry … “ 

   “Now tell me, what’s wrong.” 

“They made fun of me Grandma.” 

   “Why ever for?” 

“You know why … I’m different.” 

   “You don’t look different. 
    You look just like them!” 

“OH Grandma you know what I mean!” 

   “I certainly do not!” 

“They know what we are Grandma.” 

   “What we ARE? And what are we dear?”

“That we’re witches … “ 

   “Oh that, so what of it? 
    It’s not a bad thing.” 

“They called me awful names Grandma and 
 they spit on me.” 

Anger
Not at her
At them
Just as quickly
It was gone 

   “That’s their ignorance honey, their fear talking.
    You see, they just don’t understand how wonderful 
    you are … how gifted … one day they will. Then you 
    will see … they will come to you … asking you for 
    your help … when they can’t help themselves … 
    they will forget how they treated you today … 
    they will only remember that you are different … 
    that you can help them … it will be your 
    difference that will make you irreplaceable 
    to them.” 

“Grandma that’s so old fashioned.” 

   “Child, it may be old fashioned, but as Rhett 
    told Scarlett ‘that is the one unforgivable 
    sin in any society. Be different and be damned!’ 
    And we have always been different dear, BUT 
    we have never been damned. We have always been 
    blessed. Tomorrow will be a better day and the 
    day after that even better. By the end of two 
    weeks you’ll make a friend or two who won’t 
    care who you are. Just be who you are … 
    be yourself, your beautiful self my dear.
    Now wash your face and come down it’s time to 
    learn your other lessons … I believe it’s 
    herbs today isn’t it?” 

“Yes Grandma… I will, and it is herbs today.”

Wild Thing ©2016

Written for Writing Rebels
Prompt #42
Writing Rebelsm