She was yer postcard type of witch
Long black cloak and red striped hose
Pointy hat and straggly raggly hair
Even wart of requisite size on nose
Miaowly cat of evil demeanour
Balanced there on her broom
With a certain air of sang froid
As she steered around the room
But eye of toad and tongue of newt
Plus any spell known just couldn’t right
That she couldn’t fly by the moon
Cos she was so afeared of heights
She never made the witches ball
Never danced the Evil Tango
If one just can’t ride one’s broomstick
There’s no way known that one can go
So she sits at home in misery
Frantically searching for a spell
A charm a potion or incantation
To solve her perfectly dreadful hell
Oh she can curse with the best of ‘em
Cure warts and other various ills
But how can a witch be credible
When she’s always having spills
How can a witch have pride
When she can’t leave her room
To attend her monthly local coven
Cos she keeps falling off her broom
Categories:
sang froid, anxiety, depression, fantasy, grief,
Form: Rhyme
Inhale the night.
Let darkness seep into thy soul
and silence soliloquoys
soothe thy sorrows
but shush the susurruses.
They are but
slithering splinters.
Seek thy sang froid
in traces of the night.
Categories:
sang froid, night,
Form: Free verse
It’s cotton sleeves and naked shoulders, since
the balmy southern evening’s close and warm.
“Aida” underneath the stars tonight!
Bassoons and oboes, eager to perform,
are practising brief runs. The moon is huge
against umbrella pines, and tiny bats
are flickering, silent in the smooth mauve sky.
Italian stewards, nature’s diplomats,
escort the pretty women to their seats.
Expensive perfume lingers in the air.
Coquettish earrings glitter fetchingly,
their wearers feigning sang froid (but aware!)
These Roman nights! Life is so gracious here.
To live like this – who’d ever want to die?
Ars longa, vita brevis. Raise a beer.
Tonight, Rome is eternal. So am I.
Categories:
sang froid, travel,
Form: Rhyme
Something’s lurking in the shadows. Something’s hiding in the dark.
Something’s out there by my window, so why doesn’t Fido bark?
Something out there wants to get me! I am losing my sang-froid.
Something wants to disappear me. I’m not being paranoid!
I used to have a neighbor woman--We cannot find her anywhere.
When I called for some patrolmen. They did not show ‘cause they don’t dare!
Something outside isn’t human-- or at least not anymore.
A cannibal or psycho axeman, or just a clown covered with gore.
I’ve got the willies something fierce. Those shivers just won’t go away.
I’m not ready for the hearse. Too scared to run…too scared to stay.
Someone’s walked over my tomb, or given me the evil eye.
Something’s out there in costume--Trick or treat, it’s time to die!
Something’s out there by my window, so why doesn’t Fido bark?
Something’s lurking in the shadows. Something’s waiting in the dark.
Categories:
sang froid, dark, dog, evil, fear,
Form: Couplet
In sang-froid, sass cords:
Sangoma dashes siren,
Thunder crashes trunk;
Sarky banters with lippy.
Spim for Santa maidenhead.
Categories:
sang froid, allegory, anti bullying, change,
Form: Tanka