Witches Kitchen

Witches Kitchen

A Poem by Sean Eddingfield

Fairy tale with a twist...


I wander down the unseen path

that I know

and she knows...

The wind seems angry today,

black sky,

towering clouds

lightning dares to blink and wink

and the thunder chases it away.

But no rain falls.

Leaves fly past my face

whispering in my ear

"Don't go that way...

not that way...

for some do not return.


black wolf in my path

snarling growling...

is all at once distracted

by a whistle

from not far away.

He bolts away

up and over

the next hill...

but not without first

giving me the warmest of smiles.

I continue in his direction

upon the crest of the hill

I spy the house

watching me

like a thing alive...

It's soul burning as a candle

in the window.

Upon the walls

vines grow thick

and like veins

from an unseen heart

seem to pump a dark magic

into this place

children should not go.

Upon the porch

a strange bird

in a guilded cage

laughs at the sight of me.

Not a feather he has left

but leathery skin

and what is this?

He could be free,

for the key to the cage

is 'round his neck.

A creaking door invites me in

or perhaps just the wind...

I step into the witches kitchen

so many things to see...

Black cat curled near the hearth

blazing fire

bubbling caludron

with smells of garlic

and spoiled meat

somehow inviting.

Upon the mantlepeice

a sealed jar

contains a spiteful creature...

tiny and naked

with gossamer wings

that hardly fit inside

the glass prison.

Maddened she spits

something like a web

forgetting her confinement

she is caught within it.

Here, vials hang on ropes

or strands of hair.

On this side are gourds hollow

where spiders live...

on that side there are flowers

dried and cracked like dead mens bones.

Orbs, herbs, blackend dust, green fluid,

eyes and ears

of creatures not quite human...

Bottles full of fear and lust

and hate and greed

and love.

And a poor man's head

with no skin upon it

with empty sockets

and hollowed top

to catch the water

dripping slowly.

And now the sound of shuffling feet...

I hide.

From this view,

I see the back door swing wide,

a long black dress

nearly blocks my view

of an enormous patch of pumpkins

that seem to go on and on

and on.

Door bangs shut...

I see her shoes

from here on the floor

under the table...

silver buckle and pointy toes.

Will she hear?

Will she see?

She seems to pause...

taking in long breaths

She knows that I am here

She can smell me.

I burst from my hiding place!


Flailing my arms!

The knife in her hand

glints of shiny steel

stained with blood.

Her long black hair

is tied with a bow

made from the innards

of the rabbit

neck broken

and butchered.

She is beautiful and pale

and seems happy to see me.

Laughing I ask...

"Did I scare you Mother?"

The black wolf at my side

nuzzles my hand...

we all laugh together.




© 2009 Sean Eddingfield

Author's Note

Sean Eddingfield
And you thought she was gonna get me...

My Review

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Nicely done. I enjoyed it

Posted 13 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Excellent as usual. ^-^
Aside from a few grammar issues, ish great.
I love the way the words flow throughout the poem,
and the whole thing really. ^w^
Keep up the good work, as I know you will. XD

Posted 13 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Ha! Love it. Excellent write full of mystery and magic. Wonderfully descriptive and a great twist at the end. Perfect. Going in favorites.

Posted 13 Years Ago

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3 Reviews
Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on April 10, 2009


Sean Eddingfield
Sean Eddingfield


Towering heights and abysmal depths and a litte of the life in between... but mostly... mosty... of what I speak is of those who are unseen... But save some fear to hold onto... you can't see them, b.. more..


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