Short Witching Poems
Short Witching Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Witching by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Witching by length and keyword.
midnight came and went
witching hour cast no ripples~
slumber undisturbed
Pixabay image by Orlandow
Jack o'lanterns were all alight
To frighten spooks throughout the night
But there was an hitch
When a nasty witch
Made all our candy Kryptonite
Nestled justly,
the thief he slumbers
sprawled spreadeagled
upon my bed.
By witching hour
his deafening snore
drives one to ...
Lumbering lethargy.
Owl Soars - A Haiku
witching autumn freeze
how a little, cold owl soars
enjoying the leaf
11/24/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
witching winter kiss
so public intense house haunts
in spite a ghost host
1/24/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2021
If it truly be the Witching Hour
from witch’s brew we need not cower
Only where’s the timepiece so precise
it rejects fresh hemlock for garden spice
It is All Hallows Eve
The night of all souls
Samhain Day
When the wiccans wail
At the witching hour
When the Demons walk
Souls will be taken
In the black of night
Form:
‘Tis now the very witching time of night’
said Hamlet, referencing the dead
Whatever was going on
in William Shakespeare’s head
The witching hour,
The poet’s hour,
An hour that doesn’t exist.
At this hour you question everything,
And nothing.
The answers always the same,
The answer doesn’t exist.
Mine is a lively lunacy
at three am
the witching hour
full moon insanity
infecting empaths
magic madness
I lie awake
my ideals walking in harmony
down a dendrite highway of fantasy
Blowing a whistle out of nowhere,
a warning at the witching hour.
It’s meant for a rooster’s crow,
not a moonlit silence.
Tea kettle alarms
start an upsurge.
Shift your eyes
to the
void.
She comes to me
In the witching hour
Bruised n beaten
To feed on my power
To bring life in
A universe
Given to death
She takes my breath
To breathe life anew
Shes my soulmate
Of my breude
Yikes! Just five minutes to the witching hour
I’d better hit the hay
Before my visions of witches in luna's shadow
~ like those of Santa ~
fly away
Your memory...
like hands around my neck,
taking my breath away.
Your name on my lips,
as if I had nothing else to say.
My final moment, my last prayer:
Please! Lord!
Make his arms my resting place.
Three am now
Faerie magic is afoot
The witching hour
The house is silent
Spirits try for attention
I know they are here
I sense and smell them
Because my family is fey
Sometimes they throw things
Which way does the spell go?
Where does her fury go?
Wry face and fuming heart
Wilted meadow we see
Witching hour saddles her
Waiting to cast the spell
Walking on mystic lanes
September 27, 2023.
3:00am; The hour of old souls & deep thinkers.
Dreamers though we're wide awake.
Loud hearts & silent eyes, our every thought the night to take.
Bewitching ours, the Witching hour, what mystery awaits.
~ 2020
A broom is a flight of fancy
at the witching hour
A machine gun uncased
in peril, it’s power
Waltzing Matilda
on the ballroom floor
Sweeps me away
~ with so much more
My tale of darkness
Begins on the witching hour
When the moon shines bright
An evil witch dies
She is reborn within you
Your torment builds slow
Reborn with magic
She overtakes your soul quick.
Now you are fiendish
Why call it 'witching hour'
if no one's seen a witch
How are hearts sewn together
if not with needle's stitch
When do decent folks decide
the goal is to get rich
Who can hope to get through life
without a single hitch
Death,
you're freed;
With one taste
define nightlife;
Now I will take you,
drip for me as I taste
and then erase your anguish;
Give yourself to the Witching hour;
Strawberries decadent in moonlight,
it was not the apple that Eve wanted.
Thoughts billowed out from the mind
All the disbeliefs and sins whirl around my soul
What's more...
The barbed arrow of time pierces into my heart
And as the witching hour dawned upon us
It snatches my breath away... Am I in hell?
©malavikavipin
i must finish
this before it
becomes the
witching hour
where in this
poem all the
todays will be
yesterdays and
the tommows
today though
everyday has
a midnight i
want to write
this poem to
day not to
morrow
oops it
seems
time is
up
Form:
While claws of full moon pierce the lanes, beware
For Hallow slakes on a witching twilight,
Ghoulish tricks from dark shadows choke the air
Engraving beams with ripped imprints of fright!
Halloween Moon Contest of Eve Roper
10/20/2015
Publicized with a sharp glower
you can read the butterfly stings.
Wretched heat of the witching hour
publicized with a sharp glower.
Dark eyes holding vacant power
give a glimpse of all fervor brings.
Publicized with a sharp glower
you can read the butterfly stings.