I poemed again, twice!

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NIGHTMARE

By: R. Christopher

Jerked awake from disturbing dreams.

Terror fills my invoiced screams.

Another night of restless sleep

with sweat-soaked covers all aheap.

 

Breathe deep to calm my racing heart.

Await the dawning day to start.

Another day of fear and fright

of what dreams may come tonight.

 

Will they be dreams sharp and pointed,

or imahes so dishointed.

Freams in colors of violet-dread

with flames and sparks of yellow-red.

 

Or scenes of love turned to hate,

disappointments that don’t abate.

Worse—the loneliness dark as coal

that eats away your very soul.

 

The nightly tide of evv and flow

the dreams retreat but do not go.

They have always returned to me

There is nowhere that I can flee.

 

Some nights the dreams; they do not haunt,

they do not scare, they do not taunt,

but just hide away in the dark,

and bide their time to make their mark.

 

I pray this night I shall have peace.

One night’s rest, one night’s release.

A night without a dreams visit.

It’s not too great a prayer—is it

AND NOW FOR SOMETHIG COMPLETELY DIFFERENT...

Summertime Fair

By: Kyska (R. “Chris” Christopher)

 

First night of the Summertime Fair.

Witches come and solemnly swear

in perfect love and perfect trust.

On athame ¹ and fairy dust

to hold sacred the Wiccan Rede ²

in every thought and every deed.

We come to praise in the moonlight

The Lord of Light and Lady Bright.

Celebrating all the growing things.

The abundance that summer brings.

 

Next night of the Summertime Fair.

A circle’s called with all due care.

All of the compass points are named

with words and deeds carefully framed.

Lord and Lady are called upon

to help and guide our journey on.

The magick grows so much higher

with water, air, earth, and fire.

The spell’s complete with harm to none.

And now the circle is undone.

 

Last night of the Summertime Fair.

A joyous laughter fills the air.

In the light of a pale full moon

witches dance to a piper’s tune.

With rhythmic beat of feet on ground

the air is filled with living sound,

and voices raised in a farewell song.

Now is the time to say so long.

A happy end from a happy start,

‘twas merry met and merry part.

 

¹Athame: Ath- ă-mā,  A knife used in rituals.

² Wiccan Rede: Core teaching. “And it harm none, do as you will.”