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 ©
http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2011/12/25/__picture-it-write-and-merry-christmas/
What about God? 