
Image by Pixabay.com
Witchcraft
On moonlit nights I walk among the tombstones
Looking for the one taken from me
Her soul trapped by heavy stone
She calls to me
Jealous minds laid her there
Pointing fingers, witchcraft they said
My sweet Annabel, no harm would she make
Her healing touch now lost to those in need
They are poorer for her passing
How is it I am still here if human she be?
Did those pointing fingers know what I could not?
Did love’s blinkers keep me blind?
Is she truly there beneath the ground
Is my mind wrapped in her spell?
Wonderfully evocative poem :O)
Thank you so much!