Would Her Revenge Befall – This Week’s Picture It & Write

The witch cackled into the frosty night. The cold air blew her hair in all directions. Her near-translucent locks flailed violently. The tentacles of her hair bit and stung her pale white face. She spat into the bubbling cauldron. If they wanted to banish her from these lands, these lands which belonged to her father, they would have to do a lot more than beat her. The stench of blood tickled her nose. Ancient phrases escaped her lips in a murmur. She dipped her fingers into the frothing mixture before marking her arms and face. A curse would plague this land. She watched as the last ingredient, a single snowflake, fell into the concoction. Something erupted from within the cauldron and the liquid cascaded down the hill, weaving between the pine trees, searching.

– Ermisenda Alvarez


And then she went
where everyone she knew

Would be gathered together
as their celebration ensue

To welcome the winter 
having their yearly festival

Amid their fun and joy
would her revenge befall

Oozing her poison behind
down corridors she flew

As without the countryside
destruction of all that grew

That when it was done
a barren wasteland lay behind

Inside the sick and dying
would be left to find

To let out a cackle
was so hard to resist

That she had to stifle
it with balled up fist

Yes, this was the time
she’d make the town pay

For what they had done
to her on this day!

But she did not know
that something was amiss

As outside the snow
the dying ground did kiss

And freezing her poison
dead in its track

When came riding in
a woman on horseback

‘Twas the white witch
from the north come

Astride her faithful steed
the unicorn “Sugar Plum”

Together they made haste
for the great hall

To end the wicked witch
once and for all!

Teresa Marie  12/24/11 © 



Scent of Almond

My aunt placed the tea on the table before exiting. These family reunions were always uncomfortable. The conversations grew hot quickly from the grinding friction of personalities. I counted the hours until I would be home again. Instead of fiddling with the hem of my shirt I decided to drink the tea my aunt had offered me. She had a fascination with buying ornate plates, cutlery and cups. The intricate, golden design winked at me. What disconcerted me was the content. Blood-red tea reflected my anxious expression. I took the teacup and rested the cool ceramic against my bottom lip. I was only being paranoid. This was normal tea. The sickly sweet liquid broke past the seal of my lips. I convinced myself the blood-red tea was a fitting choice. After all, wasn’t it blood that had forced us to converse this evening? Somebody had to inherit our grandparent’s money.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

That blood’s thicker than water
is what people do say
when opposite personalities will
often a friendship decay

Even though my aunt had
truly hated my mother
’twas only her and I
no other sister or brother

And so the bloody color
of this particular tea
just seemed as appropriate
as it could ever be

Right before I sipped
the liquid from my cup
over the delicate rim
I stopped to glance up

My aunt began staring
with wide opened eyes
and a look showing
an element of surprise

The faintest smile then
spread across my lips
as I raised the cup
and took a couple sips

She had placed hers
back on the table
beginning to stand up
but found herself unable

Glaring now at me
almond sent filled the air
while there was no sympathy
for her would I spare

And right before she died
I really do believe
that she drank the arsenic
her mind did conceive

Her head hit the table
as I kept my seat
for I had switched cups
to her own defeat!

Teresa Marie  12/3/11


__picture it & write

by Ermilia

A Laugh For Your Friday Via My Nephew

Did we elect these people??

Civil War planes? Let me know how that works out.

I’m saying GREAT paint job.

“We had no idea anyone was buried there.”

I didn’t know we could choose.

This one says it all.

Please, anyone, if you’ve seen this man