Are you a witch?

A crone?

A hag?

It’s the facial features

The crooked nose, the wart,

The croaky crackling voice.

Don’t get me wrong

I have nothing against you

Just keep your distance

Your hand off your wand.

I ask, as you always know

Before I say what it is I am thinking

You know where I have been

What had for dinner

You know far too much for my liking.

You say its luck

Your good fortune

But I find it unnerving

Creepy that you know

I am sure therefore

You are a witchy bitch.

I know it wasn’t such a good thing to say

That you might take offense

But what are friends if not honest

We value that in each other

But your reaction was unexpected

Your wrath so uncharacteristic.

Or was it, should I have known?

Though I have accepted by isolation

The pond has opened my eyes

To a world of contentment

Where compliance is a way of life.

You come down every day or so,

I listen to you chat about life and love

I try to sound interested

But a feeble croak and puffy throat

Don’t appear to be doing much for you

The lady frogs in the pond though are all over me.

But despite their attentions

And they are so….hmmm…. attentive

Its you my love, only you I desire.

Ribbit, croak, ribbit, croak, ribbit, croak..

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/12/25/music-friday-22-choose-your-own-christmas-adventure/