A witch astride her besom
is flying wide and high,
her cape flaps all about her
as she travels through the sky.
Her hair is black as coal dust,
she peers through one good eye,
as people far below her
look up, stupefied.
The final day of February,
beneath a wintery sky,
we find the local poacher
catching rabbits on the fly.
He is no big brave soldier
just needs some food to eat
before the world gets colder,
a stew will be a treat.
The witch sees him beneath her,
his gun slung o’er his arm,
she takes her eye out, polishes,
puts it back, still warm.
With clarity of vision
she sees a running hare
close enough for him to shoot,
she shouts out, ‘Run! Beware!’
The poacher takes exception
‘My supper’ he exclaims,
‘You’ve done me out of meat tonight,
‘for shame, old witch, for shame.’
‘Don’t you shame me, soldier,’
the witch forthright declaims,
‘That hare is running wild and free
’tis you should feel the shame.’
Polly Stretton © 2019
14/02/2019 at 06:20
Oh my God!
So brilliant.
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14/02/2019 at 06:21
I am sending this to everyone I know.
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14/02/2019 at 10:37
Oh my goodness! I’m glad that you liked it so much – it was originally written for 42Worcester as a performance poem. 😀
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14/02/2019 at 06:22
Wonderful poem, it reads like an ancient fairytale!
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14/02/2019 at 10:54
Wow! Flattery will get you everywhere 😀
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14/02/2019 at 08:54
Wonderful
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14/02/2019 at 10:54
Thanks Mark, glad you like ‘The Poacher And The Hare’ – written to one of the 42Worcester themes 🙂
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15/02/2019 at 19:19
Nice to see you here again.
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15/02/2019 at 23:16
Thanks Elaine — moved house recently and hoping to get more time to get back to what I love 😊 x
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02/06/2019 at 15:58
very good story!
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