Now where have you gone, sweet love of mine..

by M. Smith
(Appalacia)

Humorously , as the splendid world around me
decays and degrades like glimpses of my distant
home planet in the shimmering midnight sky.

In the pale light of magical scintillating , Sirus,
or one of many now , um dead , uninhabitable tiny
old , and haha scourged by my hand and lusty revenge,
for a great old , yeah inexperienced queen who called
that sphere her sacred home...

I laugh't at thoses places a'like many other, Regal
Thrones within and n'through many an age...
But, you know my sweet Secret girl, with lips of flame
and a hidden , a'burning heart, full of passion, desire,
and the will to me, lie..

Of my true powers, you know and hold great fear , true
as to exactly how, to rasie abilty to fly, a'turn to
floating green dust, an, solemly faithfully, wake as
a moon grows high.

It is to you I smok'ly poke too, bloated on the wines
of long lost and forgotten lovers, and fatly oi'led
my nose strong on your scent , 7 and 13 years after you
closed your skylight eyes for years...

The church doors are barred and shut cold to one like, me
Dogs hackle and shriek when I, alone, waltz near..
Though, to something a promised mak'd years.. I hear the pewter
Dragon in my vest poket giggle, stir, and flap it's metal
...excited and eager to feed, as I fumble with the cemetary
gate not, so far from where you used to live...

Being the true creature, of the night and most exactly ,
a working nightmare, in form , my antique blood red, glasses
guide me to your bed of eternal rest, light'ed sulrty Grainey
poisened Creamy pink...

By, light of Moons, distant I see through Earth, moulding
know the shape of your bones, flat and lazily sink'n
With Spells and words firbidden by the sad and wighted living
I, then, reach into the groaning ground and Wrest free
the bitter'n salt I seek.. a clawed despression in the
muddy soil Is the only trace I'll leave.

Long, before 5:11 a.m. as a standard I am home, sober again
standing tilt'ed with the falling , wonderous dead Moon,
Frosty Blue and sulky under it's horrid pale light, speedly
I stroll into my, spaceous, an- and with my now, morbid human
hand, dig a hole, und'r my prize old, rose starved from
winter, garden.

There, i say Aloud in the Voice of and old Crow, And lay
the dirt and ashes of your heart, to my safety, where from
my buried room I can observe an guard you, I can say
confidence, that I have commited ,No, sin of theft, but
Merely took'ed you back to where you, happ'ly belong,

To, me forever, of course... You never know how much
you mean't to me , eternal, and that even gone a'while
thy flowers that grow from your special place, are
of great value to a new, young Witch, I Know......:!