The Witch at Arbor Low
Annie Trembles had met the witch
As she sat at Arbor Low,
Her tears were thick and her heart was sick,
She had no place to go,
She'd sought the old Stone Circle out,
And thought to divine the lore
Of the old Brigantes with their Druid chants;
Then she met Susannah Straw.
Susannah Straw was a wily witch
Who lived by her wits, and spells,
She kept the faith of her pagan race
Designing and dressing wells.
She'd conjure the odd love potion,
And she'd make the kine run dry,
If a body was too outspoken
She would give them the evil eye!
Annie had been heartbroken when
She heard that the blacksmith, Tom,
Announced he was marrying Rachel Greene,
The girl from the Nether Farm,
She'd worshipped Tom from a distance
Since he'd kissed her, under the tree,
But that was back in a Christmastime,
And she'd thought: ‘He doesn't love me! '
She opened her heart to Susannah Straw
By the stones of Arbor Low,
With a flood of tears she unburdened years
Of a passion that hurt her so,
The witch had gathered the mandrake root
Some orange to make it sweet,
The heart of a dove, some powdered blood
And a smidgin of ambergris!
‘You need to feed him the potion soon,
Two days is all it will keep,
Then once he's fed it will turn his head,
It will make his Rachel weep! '
So Annie went to the Inn that night
And tipped it into his jar,
And Tom had quaffed in a single draught
Then fallen over the bar!
He'd worked at the forge that Saturday,
But felt so queer in his head,
He pumped away at the bellows ‘til
The coals were glowing red,
Then Rachel called for a sweet caress
From the lips of her dear betrothed,
But Tom recoiled as his lips were soiled
By the woman he suddenly loathed!
His hammer lay on the anvil there,
He seized, and he raised it high,
Then split the head of the girl he'd said
Was to be his beautiful bride,
She lay on the floor, unmoving
So he hid her, under the hay,
Then tucked the hammer beneath his belt,
And some rope for the come-what-may!
His steps soon led him to Arbor Low
By the time that the sun was high,
And Annie Trembles looked up to smile:
‘My Tom! Oh my, Oh my! '
But Tom was surfacing out of his trance
And he seized poor Ann by the hair,
Then cried as he brought the hammer down:
‘I am lost in the pit of despair! '
He turned to the gibbering Arbor Witch,
And dragged her over the hill,
Then hung her high on the nearest tree
As she kicked, and squirmed, and squealed.
Once back at the forge, he cut his throat
And lay by his lost love's side,
Where his blood was wedded to hers at last,
The groom, and his cold, dead bride!
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
When I Was A Young Girl
(A Song of Old Ballads)
WHEN I was a young girl, all in a green arbor,
When I was a young girl in Springtimes gone by
All the long days I went singing and smiling,
Down by the roses the sweet days beguiling,
Love in the arbor and love in the sky . . .
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, how happy was I!
Oh, the long days I must sit at my sampler,
Oh, the slow way that the still time would go!
I longed to be running across the bright heather,
'Off with the silk gown and on with the leather,
Following the raggle-taggle gypsies, oh!'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, a long time ago!
When I was a young girl in days that were golden,
When I was a young girl, and life had no smart,
All the world seemed a place for my playing,
Full of great lovers to come to me, saying,
'Madam, I give you the keys of my heart . . .'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, and dreaming apart!
When I was a young girl, I dreamed of my lover,
A tall cavalier who should whisper me low,
'Love, on your lips are red roses a-blowing,
I am your true love, and fast is time going
Am I your true love? Oh, say yes or no!'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl–
When I was a young girl, a long time ago!
When I was a young girl there came my true lover,
Swiftly I knew him in glad days gone by;
Never a sword or a lovelock or feather,
But oh, at his touch 'twas our hearts came together,
Love in the arbor and love in the sky . . .
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, how happy was I!
poem by Margaret Widdemer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anything You Can Do
ANNIE: Anything you can do I can do better
......I can do anything better than you
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can, yes, I can
FRANK: Anything you can be I can be greater
......Sooner or later I'm greater than you
ANNIE: No, you're not
FRANK: Yes, I am
ANNIE: No, you're not
FRANK: Yes, I am
ANNIE: No, you're not
FRANK: Yes, I am, yes I am
FRANK: I can shoot a partridge with a single cartridge
ANNIE: I can get a sparrow with a bow and arrow
FRANK: I can live on bread and cheese
ANNIE: And only on that?
FRANK: Yes
ANNIE: So can a rat
FRANK: Any note you can reach I can go higher
ANNIE: I can sing anything higher than you
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
ANNIE: Anything you can buy I can buy cheaper
......I can buy anything cheaper than you
FRANK: Fifty cents
ANNIE: Forty cents
FRANK: Thirty cents
ANNIE: Twenty cents
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can, yes, I can
FRANK: Anything you can say I can say softer
ANNIE: I can say anything softer than you
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can, yes, I can
FRANK: I can drink my liquor faster than a flicker
ANNIE: I can do it quicker and get even sicker
FRANK: I can open any safe
ANNIE: Without being caught?
FRANK: Sure
ANNIE: That's what I thought (you crook)
FRANK: Any note you can hold I can hold longer
ANNIE: I can hold any note longer than you
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can, yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't - yes, you can
ANNIE: Anything you can wear I can wear better
......In what you wear I'd look better than you
FRANK: In my coat
ANNIE: In your vest
FRANK: In my shoes
ANNIE: In your hat
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can, yes, I can
FRANK: Anything you can say I can say faster
ANNIE: I can say anything faster than you
FRANK: Noyoucan't
ANNIE: YesIcan
FRANK: Noyoucan't
ANNIE: YesIcan
FRANK: Noyoucan't
ANNIE: YesIcan
FRANK: Noyoucan't
ANNIE: YesIcan
FRANK: I can jump a hurdle
ANNIE: I can wear a girdle
FRANK: I can knit a sweater
ANNIE: I can fill it better
FRANK: I can do most anything
ANNIE: Can you bake a pie?
FRANK: No
ANNIE: Neither can I
FRANK: Anything you can sing I can sing sweeter
ANNIE: I can sing anything sweeter than you
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Oh, yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't, can't, can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can, can, can, can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Annie Mae
Written by natalie cole
(hoo, hoo, hoo) mmm (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Growing up wasnt easy for annie mae
(hoo, hoo, hoo)
A little girl in a great big world
Annie mae (hoo, hoo, hoo)
No one knew about her past
Some people swore shed never last
She was (growing up much too fast)
Growing (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Just a little too fast (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Never had her a mama, no, no
Annie mae (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Rarely heard a kind spoken word
Annie mae (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Looking at life through an empty shell
And all the time shes catching hell
She was growing
(growing up much too fast) up much too fast
Does anybody know where is annie mae today
Where oh where is annie mae
All you got to do is look into the faces of
All the young girls
On the avenue--(young girls!)
Oh, well, (hoo, hoo, hoo) ha
In the night hear her cry, annie mae (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Hurt and pain keeps coming again
And again, and again, annie mae (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Trippin and runnin is blowin her mind
Tryin to decide if shell make it this time
She was (growing up) oh, yeah (much too fast)
She was (growing up much too fast)
Somebody got to stop her, oh annie, annie
(ooh) (hoo, hoo, hoo) (where is annie mae)
Annie, annie
Somebody
(ooh) (hoo, hoo, hoo) (where is annie mae)
Got to stop her, oh, annie, annie,
(ooh) (hoo, hoo, hoo) (where is annie mae)
Annie, annie
Shes runnin, shes runnin
Growin up too fast, oh, oh
(shes running) oh, oh
Growin up too fast, oh, oh
(shes runnin) oh, oh
Growin up too fast, oh, hey
(shes runnin) annie, annie mae, yeah
(shes running) where you goin annie
(shes runnin) dont you think somebody aught to stop you
(shes runnin) somebody aught to stop you
(shes runnin) dont you think Im gonna try to stop you
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Gregor; Or, The Lass Of Lochroyan
'O wha will shoe my fu' fair foot?
And wha will glove my hand?
And wha will lace my middle jimp,
Wi' the new-made London band?
'And wha will kaim my yellow hair,
Wi' the new made silver kaim?
And wha will father my young son,
Till Love Gregor come hame?'
'Your father will shoe your fu' fair foot,
Your mother will glove your hand;
Your sister will lace your middle jimp
Wi' the new-made London band.
'Your brother will kaim your yellow hair,
Wi' the new made silver kaim;
And the king of heaven will father your bairn,
Till Love Gregor come haim.'
'But I will get a bonny boat,
And I will sail the sea,
For I maun gang to Love Gregor,
Since he canno come hame to me.'
O she has gotten a bonny boat,
And sailld the sa't sea fame;
She langd to see her ain true-love,
Since he could no come hame.
'O row your boat, my mariners,
And bring me to the land,
For yonder I see my love's castle,
Close by the sa't sea strand.'
She has ta'en her young son in her arms,
And to the door she's gone,
And lang she's knocked and sair she ca'd,
But answer got she none.
'O open the door, Love Gregor,' she says,
'O open, and let me in;
For the wind blaws thro' my yellow hair,
And the rain draps o'er my chin.'
'Awa, awa, ye ill woman,
You'r nae come here for good;
You'r but some witch, or wile warlock,
Or mer-maid of the flood.'
'I am neither a witch nor a wile warlock,
Nor mer-maid of the sea,
I am Fair Annie of Rough Royal;
O open the door to me.'
'Gin ye be Annie of Rough Royal--
And I trust ye are not she--
Now tell me some of the love-tokens
That past between you and me.'
'O dinna you mind now, Love Gregor,
When we sat at the wine,
How we changed the rings frae our fingers?
And I can show thee thine.
'O yours was good, and good enough,
But ay the best was mine;
For yours was o' the good red goud,
But mine o' the diamonds fine.
'But open the door now, Love Gregor,
O open the door I pray,
For your young son that is in my arms
Will be dead ere it be day.'
'Awa, awa, ye ill woman,
For here ye shanno win in;
Gae drown ye in the raging sea,
Or hang on the gallows-pin.'
When the cock had crawn, and day did dawn,
And the sun began to peep,
Then up he rose him, Love Gregor,
And sair, sair did he weep.
'O I dreamd a dream, my mother dear,
The thoughts o' it gars me greet,
That Fair Annie of Rough Royal
Lay cauld dead at my feet.'
'Gin it be for Annie of Rough Royal
That ye make a' this din,
She stood a' last night at this door,
But I trow she wan no in.'
'O wae betide ye, ill woman,
An ill dead may ye die!
That ye woudno open the door to her,
Nor yet woud waken me.'
O he has gone down to yon shore-side,
As fast as he could fare;
He saw Fair Annie in her boat,
But the wind it tossd her sair.
And 'Hey, Annie!' and 'How, Annie!
O Annie, winna ye bide?'
But ay the mair that he cried 'Annie,'
The braider grew the tide.
And 'Hey, Annie!' and 'How, Annie!
Dear Annie, speak to me!'
But ay the louder he cried 'Annie,'
The louder roard the sea.
The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough,
And dashd the boat on shore;
Fair Annie floats on the raging sea,
But her young son rose no more.
Love Gregor tare his yellow hair,
And made a heavy moan;
Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet,
But his bonny young son was gone.
O cherry, cherry was her cheek,
And gowden was her hair,
But clay cold were her rosey lips,
Nae spark of life was there,
And first he's kissd her cherry cheek,
And neist he's kissed her chin;
And saftly pressd her rosey lips,
But there was nae breath within.
'O wae betide my cruel mother,
And an ill dead may she die!
For she turnd my true-love frae my door,
When she came sae far to me.'
poem by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jack and Kath (long poem)
Jack Benbow and his younger sister Kath
went for a walk along a winding path.
This led them through some very high trees
past some bluebells and buzzing bee’s.
The birds sang their songs on this sunny day
as the children happily went their way.
Along the path they skipped and walked,
singing and playing as they talked.
They came across a clearing in the wood
where a sign pointed to Notsogood.
“What a funny name for a place, ” said Kath.”
“Yes, ” said Jack, “but it’s time to head back.
We’ll go back the same way as we came
and follow the path back home again.”
But the path led them deeper into the wood
and up to another sign to Notsogood.
“Kath, didn’t we pass that sign earlier today,
surely we must head back the other way? ”
So they turned around and began to walk back.
“Look, ” said Kath, “there’s another sign Jack.
And that’s also pointing to Notsogood,
how do we get out of this silly wood? ”
“Let’s just follow the sign and see where it goes
it’s better than following the end of your nose.”
The winding path went from wide to narrow
as the dark clouds made it harder to follow.
Over a stream and home cooking filled the air,
it led to a shack, with a cat sleeping on a chair.
The rickety fence led them down the overgrown path,
“Let’s knock on the door for directions, ” said Kath.
The door slowly opened with a long drawn out creak,
an old woman in black appeared who began to speak.
“Hello happy children what a nice pleasant surprise, ”
as she looked at them closely with her piercing eyes.
“I was just about to make a lovely pot of herbal of tea,
would you like to join Malapropis and me? ”
“Malapropis, is that really the name of your cat? ”
“Yes it is, and all she ever does is get incredibly fat.”
This old woman’s nails were dirty, long and pointed,
and her nose and chin was bent and disjointed.
“Children, would you like sweetness in your tea? ”
“Yes please, we like it as sweet as can be”
“However, afterwards we must begin walking home.”
The woman didn’t look happy and gave out a moan.
She discreetly poured a potion into the children’s tea,
but gave more to Kath to make her extra sleepy.
While the children slept on the shacks wooden floor
the old woman lifted up a timber trap door.
She carried Kath down the steps into the cellar below
and put her into a box with a straw pillow.
She then mixed a potion and gave it to her while she slept,
a spell was cast as she danced, and with delight she wept.
This magical mixture would exchange their looks and age
it began to work in moments, and they began to change.
The witch was now young and the spitting image of Kath,
and Kath though asleep was old with a face of cracks.
The witch quickly ran up the steps and shut the trap door,
and tried to wake up Jack from his potioned snore.
“Wake up Jack; it’s time to go while the witch is away,
we’ve got to go now, quick right away.”
Jack yawned, “Okay Kath but which way shall we go? ”
“Just follow that cat, she seems to know.”
He couldn’t distinguish between the witch and Kath,
and sure enough the cat led them along the path.
“Best not to tell our parents Jack where we have been,
we’ll say we’ve been helping dear old Mr Green.”
“But Kath, we can’t tell a lie to our mum and dad.”
“It’ll be alright Jack; a white lie isn’t so bad.”
“I’ll say we were late because we helped with the hay,
and we didn’t know the time until the farmer did say.”
Their parents were anxious because they were so late,
and their gravy had dried in rings around their plate.
No one noticed any difference in their darling little Kath,
except for the croak in her voice when she began to laugh.
But they thought this amusing and just one of those things,
and it didn’t affect her singing because she couldn’t sing.
Malapropis couldn’t get used to a house made of stone,
so went back and joined Kath at the Notsogood home.
Because of her age she couldn’t walk far and hobbled about,
and read the witch’s books of spells day in and day out.
At the age of seventeen the witch became betrothed
to the old Tax Collector who was wealthy and loathed.
Jack’s mother and father could not understand why
she should want to marry a man so hated and sly.
One day Jack and his new puppy went for a walk in the wood
and after a while saw the signpost pointing to Notsogood.
Memories came back of when he and his sister were lost that day
and no matter where they went the sign pointed the same way.
Eleven years had passed him by since that unusual cloudy day,
and so he decided to retrace his steps if he could remember the way.
He followed the signposts, but still the shack he couldn’t find,
but a tawny owl had been following for quite sometime.
He looked up at the owl and the owl looked down at him,
and then it began to flap its wings and make a noisy din.
It flew from tree to tree as though it wanted to be followed,
so he ran through the trees and over the stream that flowed.
Eventually they came to the shack that hadn’t changed one bit,
and as he was about to knock at the door the old woman opened it.
“Jack! Jack! ” She said, “Where’ve you been for all this time?
I’ve been living here and going out of my mind? ”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand, of course you live here.”
“Why did you leave me Jack, a little girl alone, so full of fear? ”
“What do you mean leave you? You live here in this shack.”
“Oh dear, you don’t realise who I am, do you Jack? ”
Yes, you’re the old woman my sister and I met years ago.”
“Oh Jack, how can you think that I’m that old so and so? ”
“Well you look like her and your fat cat’s come back.”
“Please let me explain what has happened Jack.”
Kath explained that she had been given a potion and left to sleep
while the witch exchanged bodies and left her to weep,
and when she awoke and eventually got out of the cellar
the witch and he had gone leaving her forever.
“So you’re saying it wasn’t you that came home with me that day,
it was the witch, who also made me lie and told me what to say?
Is there anything we can do to turn this situation around,
considering your age and that your legs are unsound? ”
“I may be old, but I’ve learned many things whilst I’ve been here
about spells and potions, and how to mix them with tea, wine, or beer.
If you can add a fresh potion to her cup before she takes a drink
it will reverse the wrong doing in the time it takes her to blink? ”
“Yes, I can do that; her wedding reception is on Saturday night,
oh, what perfect timing to put all her nastiness to right.”
“Whatever you do Jack, don’t mention this to mum or dad
because if things do go wrong we’ll all be sad.
If you can manage to give her the drink at precisely eight o’clock
I can begin to cast my spell, which will make hers unlock.
If everything goes to plan, in no time at all she’ll grow back old,
and I'll have my life back with a story to be told.
After the deed, I’ll find my way back on my own
and I’ll see mum, dad, and you later when you arrive home.
Does this plan for the wicked witch sound alright with you,
if it does I’ll begin to make my very special potion brew? ”
“Yes, but it’s a pity we can’t get back your stolen eleven years.”
“I’ll be happy to be myself again and to see that witch in tears.
The potion’s finished, now take this small bottle of special brew
it’s very strong, so please don’t add any more drops than two.
If everything goes well I will see you late on Saturday night,
I’m so excited with the prospect of everything coming to right.”
“Don’t you worry Kath we’ll beat that life stealing old hag
and stop her spending the Tax Collector’s bag.”
The Tax man and the witch were having a wonderful wedding day
she was all smiles with airs and graces, and no one got in her way.
She now had beauty, security, and all that wealth could bring,
and a pompous old man that would be dead before spring.
At the expensive crowded wedding reception early that night
Jack had his task of putting the past’s wrongs to right.
The main speeches were being said to rapturous applause
and the time was now right for Jack’s worthy cause.
He filled two glasses with wine and added all the potion to one,
but forgot which was the witch’s and the time had nearly come.
At two minutes to eight he took a chance and gave the witch a glass
and asked everyone to drink to his sister’s health and happiness.
He pretended to take a sip and then encouraged the witch to drink,
she gulped it down and in a flash her body began to shrink.
Everyone in the room was watching and saw her vanish to the floor
all that remained was her dress, some dust and not a lot more.
The guests were shocked and horrified and couldn’t believe their eyes,
the Tax Collector choked on a chicken bone, and keeled over and died.
Jack’s mother and father sobbed at the loss of their only daughter
and couldn’t understand why Jack was in a fit of laughter.
“At sometime tonight, ” said Jack, “there will be another huge surprise
far greater than what’s happened here and you won’t believe your eyes.”
They thought that this was in poor taste and told him to stop fooling around,
and to show respect for his poor sister lying as dust on the ground.
Later they entered their house and saw their daughter standing by a chair
she looked so young and beautiful, with flowers in her flowing red hair.
With tears in their eyes her parents said, “But Kath how can that be? ”
So we began to tell them about the witch, herself and me.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rapunzel
A woman
who loves a woman
is forever young.
The mentor
and the student
feed off each other.
Many a girl
had an old aunt
who locked her in the study
to keep the boys away.
They would play rummy
or lie on the couch
and touch and touch.
Old breast against young breast…
Let your dress fall down your shoulder,
come touch a copy of you
for I am at the mercy of rain,
for I have left the three Christs of Ypsilanti
for I have left the long naps of Ann Arbor
and the church spires have turned to stumps.
The sea bangs into my cloister
for the politicians are dying,
and dying so hold me, my young dear,
hold me…
The yellow rose will turn to cinder
and New York City will fall in
before we are done so hold me,
my young dear, hold me.
Put your pale arms around my neck.
Let me hold your heart like a flower
lest it bloom and collapse.
Give me your skin
as sheer as a cobweb,
let me open it up
and listen in and scoop out the dark.
Give me your nether lips
all puffy with their art
and I will give you angel fire in return.
We are two clouds
glistening in the bottle glass.
We are two birds
washing in the same mirror.
We were fair game
but we have kept out of the cesspool.
We are strong.
We are the good ones.
Do not discover us
for we lie together all in green
like pond weeds.
Hold me, my young dear, hold me.
They touch their delicate watches
one at a time.
They dance to the lute
two at a time.
They are as tender as bog moss.
They play mother-me-do
all day.
A woman
who loves a woman
is forever young.
Once there was a witch's garden
more beautiful than Eve's
with carrots growing like little fish,
with many tomatoes rich as frogs,
onions as ingrown as hearts,
the squash singing like a dolphin
and one patch given over wholly to magic -
rampion, a kind of salad root
a kind of harebell more potent than penicillin,
growing leaf by leaf, skin by skin.
as rapt and as fluid as Isadoran Duncan.
However the witch's garden was kept locked
and each day a woman who was with child
looked upon the rampion wildly,
fancying that she would die
if she could not have it.
Her husband feared for her welfare
and thus climbed into the garden
to fetch the life-giving tubers.
Ah ha, cried the witch,
whose proper name was Mother Gothel,
you are a thief and now you will die.
However they made a trade,
typical enough in those times.
He promised his child to Mother Gothel
so of course when it was born
she took the child away with her.
She gave the child the name Rapunzel,
another name for the life-giving rampion.
Because Rapunzel was a beautiful girl
Mother Gothel treasured her beyond all things.
As she grew older Mother Gothel thought:
None but I will ever see her or touch her.
She locked her in a tow without a door
or a staircase. It had only a high window.
When the witch wanted to enter she cried'
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.
Rapunzel's hair fell to the ground like a rainbow.
It was as strong as a dandelion
and as strong as a dog leash.
Hand over hand she shinnied up
the hair like a sailor
and there in the stone-cold room,
as cold as a museum,
Mother Gothel cried:
Hold me, my young dear, hold me,
and thus they played mother-me-do.
Years later a prince came by
and heard Rapunzel singing her loneliness.
That song pierced his heart like a valentine
but he could find no way to get to her.
Like a chameleon he hid himself among the trees
and watched the witch ascend the swinging hair.
The next day he himself called out:
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,
and thus they met and he declared his love.
What is this beast, she thought,
with muscles on his arms
like a bag of snakes?
What is this moss on his legs?
What prickly plant grows on his cheeks?
What is this voice as deep as a dog?
Yet he dazzled her with his answers.
Yet he dazzled her with his dancing stick.
They lay together upon the yellowy threads,
swimming through them
like minnows through kelp
and they sang out benedictions like the Pope.
Each day he brought her a skein of silk
to fashion a ladder so they could both escape.
But Mother Gothel discovered the plot
and cut off Rapunzel's hair to her ears
and took her into the forest to repent.
When the prince came the witch fastened
the hair to a hook and let it down.
When he saw Rapunzel had been banished
he flung himself out of the tower, a side of beef.
He was blinded by thorns that prickled him like tacks.
As blind as Oedipus he wandered for years
until he heard a song that pierced his heart
like that long-ago valentine.
As he kissed Rapunzel her tears fell on his eyes
and in the manner of such cure-alls
his sight was suddenly restored.
They lived happily as you might expect
proving that mother-me-do
can be outgrown,
just as the fish on Friday,
just as a tricycle.
The world, some say,
is made up of couples.
A rose must have a stem.
As for Mother Gothel,
her heart shrank to the size of a pin,
never again to say: Hold me, my young dear,
hold me,
and only as she dreamed of the yellow hair
did moonlight sift into her mouth.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hammer Of Love
I was a young man,
When the hammer came down,
Thought I could handle it,
Wouldn't do me no harm.
She was a young girl,
Stars in her hair,
Rings on her finger tips,
A diamond so rare.
Hammer came down from above,
Hammer, Hammer of love.
Oho, won't you save me.
She was a young girl,
With dangerous ways,
The tears of a demon,
Kissed by a saint.
Hammer came down from above,
Oh, Hammer, Hammer of love.
Oho, yeah.
Though you pound this bitter heart,
Down to a molten steel,
Cast it in the furnace,
Of your burning spinning wheel,
I will rise up through the flames,
To wrap you in my arms,
Brand you with my loving seal
And steal your tender charms.
Oh, yeah.
The scent of our loving,
Woke my desire,
She stirred my smouldering heart,
Left me on fire.
Oh, Hammer down from above,
Oh, Hammer, Hammer of love.
Hammer, how you saved me
Hammer, how you saved me
Saved my soul.
Hear me calling you,
Through the misty morning,
Mountain and Valley,
Ocean and Sea.
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Annie
Youre a little bit shy
A little too quiet
Youre the mixed up girl
That everybody leaves behind
A little bit weird
A little too bright
But you just might be
That little bomb at their side
Theyll pull your hair
Theyll leave you wide-eyed
But did anybody wonder
What annie might have in mind
Oh, no
Theres something in the way she explains to me
Please be careful, I exist in someone elses head
Oh, no
Theres something in the way that she makes believe
Please be careful,
Annie dreams that everyone is dead
Youre a little bit dry
A little uptight
Youre the messed up girl
That every body tries to hide
Youve had enough
Theyre too unkind
But did anyone consider
What annie might have in mind
Oh, no...
song performed by by Our Lady Peace
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The White Witch
O, brothers mine, take care! Take care!
The great white witch rides out to-night,
Trust not your prowess nor your strength;
Your only safety lies in flight;
For in her glance there is a snare,
And in her smile there is a blight.
The great white witch you have not seen?
Then, younger brothers mine, forsooth,
Like nursery children you have looked
For ancient hag and snaggled tooth;
But no, not so; the witch appears
In all the glowing charms of youth.
Her lips are like carnations red,
Her face like new-born lilies fair,
Her eyes like ocean waters blue,
She moves with subtle grace and air,
And all about her head there floats
The golden glory of her hair.
But though she always thus appears
In form of youth and mood of mirth,
Unnumbered centuries are hers,
The infant planets saw her birth;
The child of throbbing Life is she,
Twin sister to the greedy earth.
And back behind those smiling lips,
And down within those laughing eyes,
And underneath the soft caress
Of hand and voice and purring sighs,
The shadow of the panther lurks,
The spirit of the vampire lies.
For I have seen the great white witch,
And she has led me to her lair,
And I have kissed her red, red lips
And cruel face so white and fair;
Around me she has twined her arms,
And bound me with her yellow hair.
I felt those red lips burn and sear
My body like a living coal;
Obeyed the power of those eyes
As the needle trembles to the pole;
And did not care although I felt
The strength go ebbing from my soul.
Oh! she has seen your strong young limbs,
And heard your laughter loud and gay,
And in your voices she has caught
The echo of a far-off day,
When man was closer to the earth;
And she has marked you for her prey.
She feels the old Antæan strength
In you, the great dynamic beat
Of primal passions, and she sees
In you the last besieged retreat
Of love relentless, lusty, fierce,
Love pain-ecstatic, cruel-sweet.
O, brothers mine, take care! Take care!
The great white witch rides out to-night.
O, younger brothers mine, beware!
Look not upon her beauty bright;
For in her glance there is a snare,
And in her smile there is a blight.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Case For Love As Storm
for Crimson Love
This can only go well.
I hold your hand
throughout the storm.
We swell together.
Two seeds break open.
I day your arbor.
You arbor my need.
Let us not plead our
case for love as storm.
Here we are warm in the park after
dark beneath the newspaper wet.
Stained with ink we are that fading
photograph of the bride and groom.
We are marked most likely
to flower in any season.
Caution thrown to wind,
blind lightning stabs the dark.
Sparks kindle perimeter pines.
The park is aflame.
The music of the gazebo gutter
waltzes clumsily on.
We make a run for it.
The dance is close.
It is now.
It is ours.
poem by Warren Falcon
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Annie Marshall the Foundling
Annie Marshall was a foundling, and lived in Downderry,
And was trained up by a coast-guardsman, kind-hearted and merry
And he loved Annie Marshall as dear as his life,
And he resolved to make her his own loving wife.
The night was tempestuous, most terrific, and pitch dark,
When Matthew Pengelly rescued Annie Marshall from an ill-fated barque,
But her parents were engulfed in the briny deep,
Which caused poor Annie at times to sigh and weep.
One day Matthew asked Annie if she would be his wife,
And Annie replied, I never thought of it in all my life;
Yes, my wife, Annie, replied Matthew, hold hard a bit,
Remember, Annie, I've watched you grow up, and consider you most fit.
Poor Annie did not speak, she remained quite mute,
And with agitation she trembled from head to foot,
The poor girl was in a dilemma, she knew not what to say,
And owing to Matthew training her, she couldn't say him nay.
Oh! Matthew, I'm afraid I would not make you a good wife,
And in that respect there would be too much strife,
And the thought thereof, believe me, makes me feel ill,
Because I'm unfit to be thy wife, Matthew, faltered the poor girl.
Time will prove that, dear Annie, but why are you so calm?
Then Annie put her hand shyly into Matthew's brown palm
Just then the flashing lightning played upon Annie's face,
And the loud thunder drowned Matthew's words as Annie left the place.
But Matthew looked after her as she went home straightway,
And his old heart felt light and gay,
As he looked forward for his coming marriage day,
Because he knew that Annie Marshall couldn't say him nay.
Then the sky drew dark, and the sea lashed itself into foam,
But he heeded it not as he sat there alone,
Till the sound of a gun came booming o'er the sea,
Then Matthew had to attend to his duty immediately.
A ship, he muttered, Lord, help them! and coming right in by the sound,
And in a few minutes she will run aground.
And the vessel was dashed against the rocks with her helpless crew,
Then in hot haste for assistance Matthew instantly flew.
Then Matthew returned with a few men all willing to lend their aid,
But amongst them all Matthew seemed the least afraid;
Then an old man cried, Save my boy, for his mother's sake,
Oh! Matthew, try and save him, or my heart will break!
I will, Heaven helping me, Matthew said solemnly,
Come, bear a hand, mates, and lower me over the cliff quietly;
Then Matthew was lowered with ropes into what seemed a watery grave,
At the risk of his own life, old Jonathan Bately's son to save.
So Matthew Pengelly saved Jonathan Bately's son,
And the old man thanked God and Matthew for what he had done,
And the mother's heart was full of gratitude and joy,
For the restoration of her darling boy.
So Matthew resolved to marry Annie Marshall,
But first he'd go to sea whatever did befall,
To earn a few pounds to make the marriage more grand,
So he joined a whaling vessel and went to Greenland
And while Matthew was away at Greenland,
David Bately wanted to marry Annie Marshall right off hand,
But Annie refused to marry David Bately,
So in anger David Bately went another voyage to sea.
A few nights after David Bately had gone to sea,
Annie's thoughts reverted to Matthew Pengelly,
And as she sat in the Downderry station watching the boiling waves below,
The wind blew a terrific gale, which filled her heart with woe.
And as she sat there the big waves did loudly roar,
When a man cried, Help! help! there's a corpse washed ashore;
Then Annie rushed madly to the little beach,
And when she saw the corpse she gave a loud screech
So there is but little more to tell of this sad history,
Only that Annie Marshall mourned long for Matthew Pengelly,
Who had floated home to be buried amongst his own kin,
But, alas! the rest of the crew were buried in the sea, save him.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sisters
ANNIE and Rhoda, sisters twain,
Woke in the night to the sound of rain,
The rush of wind, the ramp and roar
Of great waves climbing a rocky shore.
Annie rose up in her bed-gown white,
And looked out into the storm and night.
'Hush, and hearken!' she cried in fear,
'Hearest thou nothing, sister dear?'
'I hear the sea, and the plash of rain,
And roar of the northeast hurricane.
'Get thee back to the bed so warm,
No good comes of watching a storm.
'What is it to thee, I fain would know,
That waves are roaring and wild winds blow?
'No lover of thine's afloat to miss
The harbor-lights on a night like this.'
'But I heard a voice cry out my name,
Up from the sea on the wind it came.
'Twice and thrice have I heard it call,
And the voice is the voice of Estwick Hall!'
On her pillow the sister tossed her head.
'Hall of the Heron is safe,' she said.
'In the tautest schooner that ever swam
He rides at anchor in Anisquam.
'And, if in peril from swamping sea
Or lee shore rocks, would he call on thee?'
But the girl heard only the wind and tide,
And wringing her small white hands she cried,
'O sister Rhoda, there's something wrong;
I hear it again, so loud and long.
''Annie! Annie!' I hear it call,
And the voice is the voice of Estwick Hall!'
Up sprang the elder, with eyes aflame,
'Thou liest! He never would call thy name!
'If he did, I would pray the wind and sea
To keep him forever from thee and me!'
Then out of the sea blew a dreadful blast;
Like the cry of a dying man it passed.
The young girl hushed on her lips a groan,
But through her tears a strange light shone,--
The solemn joy of her heart's release
To own and cherish its love in peace.
'Dearest!' she whispered, under breath,
'Life was a lie, but true is death.
'The love I hid from myself away
Shall crown me now in the light of day.
'My ears shall never to wooer list,
Never by lover my lips be kissed.
'Sacred to thee am I henceforth,
Thou in heaven and I on earth!'
She came and stood by her sister's bed
'Hall of the Heron is dead!' she said.
'The wind and the waves their work have done,
We shall see him no more beneath the sun.
'Little will reek that heart of thine,
It loved him not with a love like mine.
'I, for his sake, were he but here,
Could hem and 'broider thy bridal gear,
'Though hands should tremble and eyes be wet,
And stitch for stitch in my heart be set.
'But now my soul with his soul I wed;
Thine the living, and mine the dead!'
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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My Love Annie
SOFT of voice and light of hand
As the fairest in the land--
Who can rightly understand
My love Annie?
Simple in her thoughts and ways,
True in every word she says,--
Who shall even dare to praise
My love Annie?
Midst a naughty world and rude
Never in ungentle mood;
Never tired of being good--
My love Annie.
Hundreds of the wise and great
Might o'erlook her meek estate;
But on her good angels wait,
My love Annie.
Many or few of the loves that may
Shine upon her silent way,--
God will love her night and day,
My love Annie.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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The Tragedy Of The Man
for years he followed the fool
idolized that foolishness even
he lost himself and could not recover
back his real identity
was he able to drink that
witch's potion?
one day his eyes open
to the other possibilities
realized that the witch is eating him piece by piece
until only his bones were left
it was too late
he is only a set of bones
without any cartilages
to link one
to the other
that i think was his tragedy
and so we pray
may the witch die
may our potions expire
may we know how to graft
flesh
may we know how to
wrap with skin
our bones
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Annie Christian
Annie christian wanted to be number 1
But her kingdom never comes, thy will be done
She couldnt stand the glory, she would be 2nd to none
The way annie tells the story, shes his only son
Annie christian wanted to be a big star
So she moved to atlanta and she bought a blue car
She killed black children, and whats fair is fair
If u try and say ure crazy, everybody say electric chair
Electric chair
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified, Ill live my life in taxicabs
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified, Ill live my life in taxicabs
Annie christian was a whore always looking for some fun
Being good was such a bore, so she bought a gun
She killed john lennon, shot him down cold
She tried to kill reagan, everybody say gun control
Gun control
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified Ill live my life in taxicabs
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified Ill live my life in taxicabs
Liar liar liar! got ya in a jam
Put your head on the block, somebody say abscam
Abscam
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified Ill live my life in taxicabs
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified Ill live my life in taxicabs
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Miranda
My dear one is mine as mirrors are lonely,
As the poor and sad are real to the good king,
And the high green hill sits always by the sea.
Up jumped the Black Man behind the elder tree,
Turned a somersault and ran away waving;
My Dear One is mine as mirrors are lonely.
The Witch gave a squawk; her venomous body
Melted into light as water leaves a spring,
And the high green hill sits always by the sea.
At his crossroads, too, the Ancient prayed for me,
Down his wasted cheeks tears of joy were running:
My dear one is mine as mirrors are lonely.
He kissed me awake, and no one was sorry;
The sun shone on sails, eyes, pebbles, anything,
And the high green hill sits always by the sea.
So to remember our changing garden, we
Are linked as children in a circle dancing:
My dear one is mine as mirrors are lonely,
And the high, green hill sits always by the sea.
Am I Evil (intro)
My mother was a witch, she was burned alive.
Thankless little bitch, for the tears I cried.
Take her down now, don't want to see her face
All blistered and burnt, can't hide my disgrace.
Twenty-seven, everyone was nice.
Gotta see 'em make 'em pay the price.
See their bodies out on the ice.
Take my time.
Am I evil? Yes I am.
Am I evil? I am man, yes I am.
As I watched my mother die, I lost my head.
Revenge now I sought, to break with my bread.
Taking no chances, you come with me.
I'll split you to the bone, help set you free.
Twenty-seven, everyone was nice.
Gotta see 'em make 'em pay the price.
See their bodies out on the ice.
Take my time.
Am I evil? Yes I am.
Am I evil? I am man, yes I am.
On with the action now, I'll strip your pride.
I'll spread your blood around, I'll see you ride.
Your face is scarred with steel, wounds deep and neat.
Like a double dozen before ya, smells so sweet.
Am I evil? Yes I am.
Am I evil? I am man.
I'll make my residence, I'll watch your fire.
You can come with me, sweet desire.
My face is long forgot, my face not my own.
Sweet and timely whore, take me home.
Am I evil? Yes I am.
Am I evil? I am man.
My soul is longing for, await my heir.
Sent to avenge my mother, sweep myself.
My face is long forgot, my face not my own.
Sweet and timely whore, take me home.
Am I evil? Yes I am.
Am I evil? I am man.
Am I evil? Yes I fuc*ing am.
Am I evil? I am man, yeah
song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Witch And The Cat
there was once a witch,
who loved to sew and stich,
with her she had a cat,
who could make all kind of hats
, once the day came,
when the cat ran away
, and the witch was to blame,
she cooked him a meal,
of rye and oatmeal
, the rye was sour,
and the oatmeal tasted like tar, s
o he galloped of,
to a fairy named heretha toff,
the witch when saw the scene,
was less than pleased,
she did a magic spell,
who cats whereabouts could tell,
she hurried towards the house,
quite as a mouse,
leave him alone you swine
that cat, yea him he's mine,
'okay'the fairy shuddered
cause the witch she dreaded,
but the cat gave out a tiny smile,
i'm gonna send you away a thousand miles,
he said something enchanted
the witch's face looked haunted'
what have you done to me'she cried
for she herself was flying
after the witch was gone
they celebrated with a songa
nd here is how it ened
no more the story bended
it ended in laughter
and a happy ever after.
poem by Kanika Varma
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Fiends’ Name
We had our Fiends when we were fired,
We have learnt the true name,
Having the ignorance of humans,
But an eternal worry of blood-thirst.
Having evil potions, of an infinity,
Is like being as wary as a witch,
The witch must not die but live!
A rune causes it, the potion, to reduce
And leave us in plight afterwards.
It is our inability, our joy for structures,
It is to save us from plight
And satisfy the blood in our flesh.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Finale
FRANK BUTLER:
The cowboys, the wrestlers, the tumblers, the clowns
The roustabouts that move the show at dawn
ANNIE OAKLEY:
The music, the spotlights, the people, the towns
Your baggage with the labels pasted on
FRANK BUTLER:
The sawdust and the horses and the smell
ANNIE OAKLEY:
The towel you've taken from the last hotel
ANNIE OAKLEY, FRANK BUTLER and CHORUS:
There's no business like show business
Like no business I know
Everything about it is appealing
Everything the traffic will allow
No where could you have that happy feeling
When you aren't stealing that extra bow
There's no people like show people
They smile when they are low
Even with a turkey that you know will fold
You may be stranded out in the cold
Still you wouldn't change it for a sack o' gold
Let's go on with the show
Let's go on with the show!
ANNIE OAKLEY and FRANK BUTLER:
They say that falling in love is wonderful
It's wonderful, so they say.
And with a moon up above it's wonderful
It's wonderful, so they tell me.
ANNIE OAKLEY:
I can't recall who said it
FRANK BUTLER:
I know I never read it
I only know that falling in love is grand
And to hold a girl in your arms
Is wonderful,
ANNIE OAKLEY:
Wonderful...
ANNIE OAKLEY and FRANK BUTLER:
In every way
So they say
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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