Dance of the Witch

Feeling her touch much more than I can take,

forgotten imagination fleeting memories cold.

Snow slowly falls before me soul this change,

making newness blend away from our reality.

I sense the end bringing spring into mind,

heartfelt shameful experiences lost.

In my crying light I see who I was meant for,

a rose so divine that magic finds her way.

Called by the Witch buried deep inside of me,

in a spell of love I find the true realization of lust.

Chances are left too few my dreams coming clear,

in a magical sense of emotion I give all away.

On my wand of pleasure her scent remains,

sliding in and out of her very life my calling.

She waits for me in the darkness eyes closed,

expectations found in the realm of desires forgotten.

Hearing her, finding her touch, making new magic,

bursting with pleasure we dance to our witch’s song.











Johnny Newell