She Is the Christmas Witch
She does not look like a Christmas witch, his uncle said.
But she is, his nephew insisted. She can make magic.
His uncle scoffed, thinking the child was being dramatic.
Christabelle walked closer and said “hello” to uncle.
His eyes met hers and he was immediately bewitched.
“I told you!” his nephew said.
His uncle nodded, realizing for the first time
That this was the beauty in his dreams.
The woman he never thought he would meet in real life.
His tongue got heavy and fell into the floor of his mouth.
He could not speak. He was dumbstruck.
“A Christmas witch!” His nephew whispered, trying to pull him away.
But Uncle was mesmerized, and enthralled.
Completely bamboozled and confused.
He was a goner.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
