Witch Disappointed

Oh she put on her goddess gown —

purple it was, and black —

in order to dance for the Equinox

at the Castle down the track.

And she put on her crystal point —

she hung it around her neck —

to go and chant for the Equinox

at Uki Castle, by heck.

And she put on her fine Spring cloak  —

the sun appliquéd on its back —

because she would feast the Equinox

with her friends  … but alas, alack!

She turned the key; the car was dead.

She could curse and she could hex

but it would not take her down to Uki

to celebrate Equinox.

And brooms don’t fly as fast as cars —

isn’t that a thing to vex?

And so it’s quiet and solitary here
that she keeps this Equinox.

True story! Submitted for dVerse Form For All: Ballads.

Her Cherished Face

her cherished face

disappears in smoke
evening clouds

This is a distillation of a poem from The Tale of Genji, 

used as a haiku prompt at Kristjaan Panneman's Carpe Diem blog.

Naming the Places

I rest my hands on my body.

This is Belly,

where I round out,

where my breath goes down to,

and flows back up —

Belly, my centre,

below the navel

and just above the swinging hips.

Belly is where I feel solid.

Belly is where I am safe.

Here now is Thigh

spreading firm and warm 

beneath my palm,

settled, substantial, 

not to be ignored —

on which I sit,

with which I walk.

If Belly is nurture,

Thigh is support.

Mother and Father they are

to the child of the mind

which is flighty, and doesn't 

know how to sit down.

I rest my hands on my head,

feeling for Brain —

but Brain is behind the scalp,

and mind anyway is not there,

it is flying.

I bring my hands

to Chest and Midriff —

left across thymus,

right over solar plexus.

These are the centres 

of love and will.

I take a breath,

and think to draw down the mind

but it doesn't come.

These are my Hands.

I rest them on my body.

They are comfortably warm,

somewhere between 

firm and gentle.

I feel my edges,

I feel my bulk.

Also my mind

comes down now into my Hands.

My Hands are writing a poem.

Submitted for Poets United's Verse First: Places you love.