witch, my apricot pitch !
colourful pansies giggled with rosy cheeks
so like them were you inviting
no innocent flower enticing into bower
wise woman with spell laden books
neatly lined, in an outfit so divine
and in a corner next to oil lamp
beckoned your goddess refined
alive in calling frame gilded solid
come into white linen where
serpentine I will attuned you mine
candles flamed in gentle desire
holy and mundane sweetly attired
scrolls from Lemuria and Atlantis
their musicality danced with breasts
circling black hat as your test
aah, witch, my beloved pitch I long
for that dim room of angelic song
trees peeping in eventide breeze
cedar essences in decanters to
please, blouse loose with ease
let your wand take me into clove light
chequered with autumn leaves so bright
will I but connect to protect white loaves
red-haired apricot mystic witch invites
nipples harden anticipating a short delight
[Honorable Mention: All Poetry Contest: Feb 26
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