Are you a witch?
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..