Little War Witches,
Soldiers and Dust
Midnight tomorrows,
and egg shells to bust -

Hand woven sweaters, 
scarves, and scarred hands,
Wet sweaty palms and
 strange foreign lands.

All of the faces, so vague, far, away.
Haven't seen a smile, 
since last Christmas Day.

Flying Witch

Little War Witches
wings on the stir.
Cloudbursts of Thunder
Oh! Lord swallow her.
The raindrops are falling.
The guns are all set.
Just one more jungle,
one more battle and yet-
The witches are flying
higher than high,
And swooping down upon us
from out of the sky.
I'm sure and their sure,
the battle is fought.

And It's here and It's bleeding -
Lord, who is the victor, which of us shot?

1973

By Lady LaMythica
Linda A. Copp

 Lady LaMythica, Linda C. CoppŠ 1973-2015
all rights reserved worldwide including but not limited to 1973-2015
.

 

 

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