Part Two of the Hero’s Tale- the Witch’s House

just a few lines from the middle of a story. I did it in a stupid nearly-unreadable style to reflect the nature of the crazy old gal. Very folksy.

‘Yond walls majestic tall

A steepled cottage edged the wood

Grey and mortared were its sides all

In moss-covered age alone it stood

Long arched-topped windows once meant to enthrall

Now broken and hazy they no longer would

A witch there now lived, though daren’t she should

-

Thousand years gone those memories lost

Stol’n or away by will

For but a name all else be tossed

In heart rests only a chill

Fell from high graces, a line then far crossed

Left to search of the kingdom forever until

Only the day the heart has its fill

-

Rose the sun, planned well was’t

Rose the witch on intuition

With flowers fair she made her basket

Daffodil, Posey and Carnation

A great greed so was her habit

And cunning fit for such her station

Thus carried she without contrition

-

With magic eye she sought her prey

Though know’d not what it be

Over path ‘side dancing fae

Beneath swaying willow tree

Where once in youth lovers did lay

And one of them was she

But magic came wi’ its own price, and she had paid the fee

-