A monotetra poem

Wistman’s Wood,
Dartmoor National Park, England Neil Burnell
Kisses that fall as summer rain,
hot, heavy, sudden, lips; arcane,
and just like that, downpours wane,
to seep and drain, to seep and drain,

The soil watered with your grace,
darting buds bend toward your face,
blooming into all open space,
to rush and race, to rush and race,

Tendrils slither around each night,
in times of shadow, crows the wight,
pillows cradle the creeping blight,
spits poisoned spite, spits poisoned spite,

Sickly forest of sullen grey,
till the fire came to cleanse away,
the spectres hex which made me prey,
burn and obey, burn and obey.

© Darius the Mate

Written for dVerse.

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29 thoughts on “Hex

  1. This one drew a deep, deep sigh from me 😀 I especially love; “The soil watered with your grace, darting buds bend toward your face.”💝💝

    Liked by 1 person

  2. There’s such a sensual evocative feel to this, yet it also feels like a haunting dark enchantment. The best hexes tread the fine line of daring to desire that turns daunting and damning. You’ve penned this well.

    Liked by 2 people

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