Short Witching Hour Poems

italiano

one minute the witching hour

the moon isn't full...

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Gathered but disconnected at their core
Witching hour wakefulness 
On display whilst alone...

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midnight came and went
witching hour cast no ripples~
slumber undisturbed 


Pixabay image by Orlandow...

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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...

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Nestled justly,
the thief he slumbers
sprawled spreadeagled 
upon my bed.
By witching hour
his deafening snore
drives one to ...

Lumbering lethargy....

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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...

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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...

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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....

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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...

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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...

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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....

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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...

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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....

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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...

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    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 
...

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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...

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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...

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Does time always stand so still 
-sometimes a distraction eases the dullness 
But the time always haunts me 
Come 4 o’clock
A witching hour 
I know I’m missing something 
The slowest hour of all 
Tick Tock 
My heart flops around the clock...

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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....

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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...

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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...

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it is two a.m.
I am usually not up until three
the witching hour

I stare at the clock
how did my guides get this wrong?
Maybe they are on Eastern time

Silly of them
I could close my eyes
But I know better

I am up now
which means I am up
I will be sorry later...

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I wake up at three every morning
The witching hour
Is it the cat?
Or something else?

Maybe it is so I can have some thinking time
Before the others get up.
I hear a voice smirk.
You live alone silly!

If you think I can go back to sleep now
You are as crazy as I am....

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Seeking wisdom
shall we find
the dictates of
a shattered mind

written wildly
on the run
scribble everything
you've done

suck the wind
right through
your spine

the hollow tune's
a haunted rhyme

blast of passion
mixed with power
written in the
witching hour...

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A romantic silent language spoken in feelings originates
in gleaming stars projecting into dark sky at three a.m.
Illuminating imagination in the loveliest of ways.

		         ideas from stars     
                   arrive at witching hour
                       three am madness...

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