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
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Related quotes
The Water-Witch
The little creek went winding down
‘Twixt whispering reeds and small blue flowers,
Singing a pleasant summer song
Of holidays and playtime hours.
We reached it at the noonday hours,
Coming from the scrub-aisles dime and cool,
Laden with ferns and lilies white,
And rested by it’s deepest pool.
And while we watched with drowsy eyes
The shimmering sunlight on the plain,
The water-witch within the stream
Arose and stood between us twain.
She looked on me with scornful eye
And mocking smile that held no mirth;
She knew my simple soul was kin
To the brown, kindly, homely earth.
But she kissed Maye upon the brow,
As though to steal her soul away;
She kissed here on her Irish eyes,
Her faery eyes, now green, now grey.
And now she walks alone our girl,
Aloof from all life’s joys and pains;
The witch’s kiss is on her brow,
The dancing water in her veins.
Ah! For the hearts that cherish her,
That sigh and pine with secret pain
For her cool lips and smiling eyes;
For Maye will never love again—
Shallow and cold as water’s self!
And my warm heart that loves her well
Can only breathe a prayer to Heaven
To break the water witch’s spell.
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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The Witch's Promise
Lend me your ear while I call you a fool.
You were kissed by a witch one night in the wood,
and later insisted your feelings were true.
The witch's promise was coming,
believing he listened while laughing you flew.
Leaves falling red, yellow, brown, all are the same,
and the love you have found lay outside in the rain.
Washed clean by the water but nursing its pain.
The witch's promise was coming, and you're looking
elsewhere for your own selfish gain.
Keep looking, keep looking for somewhere to be,
well, you're wasting your time, they're not stupid like he is.
Meanwhile leaves are still falling, you're too blind to see.
You won't find it easy now, it's only fair.
He was willing to give to you, you didn't care.
You're waiting for more but you've already had your share.
The witch's promise is turning, so don't you wait up
for him, he's going to be late.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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the Touch**********************1979
i looked up into the deep blue sky
little white clouds were floating by
i looked upon this young girls face
she held it down in disgrace.
i looked upon her cheeks so fair
she looked up to me to see if i care
i looked at her with content
and she knew right there it was heaven sent.
she smiled at me, and our eyes then touched
we knew then, it was much to much.
our hearts entwined and her lips met mine
we felt right there it was a love divine.
poem by Louis Rams
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Beware! (From The German)
I know a maiden fair to see,
Take care!
She can both false and friendly be,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!
She has two eyes, so soft and brown,
Take care!
She gives a side-glance and looks down,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!
And she has hair of a golden hue,
Take care!
And what she says, it is not true,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!
She has a bosom as white as snow,
Take care!
She knows how much it is best to show,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!
She gives thee a garland woven fair,
Take care!
It is a fool's-cap for thee to wear,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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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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Nothing Anymore
When I once looked into your eyes,
I saw honesty lying there.
When I once looked into your eyes,
I saw loyalty with love and care.
When I once looked into your eyes,
I saw life and love forever more.
When I now look into your eyes,
I see darkness, and nothing anymore.
When I once held onto your hand,
I felt compassion, kindness and love.
When I once held onto your hand,
I felt the warmth from GOD above.
When I once held onto your hand,
I felt a joy from the person I adored.
When I now hold onto your hand,
I feel coldness, and nothing anymore.
When I use to listen to your voice,
I once heard it with vigor and excitement.
When I use to listen to your voice,
I once heard it with warmth and fulfillment.
When I use to listened to your voice,
I once heard it with truth which I swore.
When I now listen to your voice.
I go dumb, as I hear nothing anymore.
When I once looked upon your face,
I would always look with pride and a smile.
When I once looked upon your face,
I would always thank GOD your with me now
When I once looked upon your face,
I would always be there to open your door.
When I now look upon your face,
I go blind, as I see nothing anymore.
When I once kissed your lips,
I tasted myself and also your flavor.
When I once kissed your lips,
I tasted life as you were my savior.
When I once kissed your lips,
I tasted excitement and your love in store.
When I now think of kissing your lips,
I now bite them shut, I taste nothing anymore.
poem by Randy McClave
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Clair de Lune
In the moonlit room your face,
Moonlight-coloured, fainting white,
And the silence of the place
Round about us in the night,
And my arms are round about you
In the silence of the night.
Lips that are not mine to kiss,
Lips how often kissed in vain,
Broken seal of memories,
Where the kisses come again
That the lips of all your lovers
Laid upon your lips in vain;
Eyes that are not mine to keep
In the mirror of mine eyes,
Where I tremble lest from sleep
Other ghosts should re-arise;
Why enthrall me with your magic,
Haunting lips, triumphant eyes?
For the silence of the night
Swims around me like a stream,
And your eyes have caught the light
Of a moon-enchanted dream,
And your arms glide round about me,
And I fade into a dream.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Red Lips, Blue Eyes, Little White Lies
(kostas/brent moyer)
Red lips, blue eyes and little white lies
Oh darlin Im a fool for you
Hey darlin why cant you can be true
Red lips, blue eyes and sweet disguise
Oh darlin the things you put me through
Your little white lies are breaking my heart in two
You come around and tell me that you love me so
You take a little loving then you say you gotta go
I know hes waiting for you on the other side of town
Well Im a fool to love you baby cause I know youre messing around
Red lips, blue eyes and little white lies
Oh darlin why cant you be true
Im crazy to love you baby you know I do, yeah
Sooner or later youll have to face the truth
Little white lies will catch up with you
With nowhere to run and no where to hide
And no one to love you there by your side
Red lips, blue eyes and little white lies
Oh darlin the things you put me through
But your little white lies are gonna catch up with you
Oh your little white lies are gonna catch up with you
Baby your little white lies are gonna catch up with you
song performed by by Gary Allan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Death Of The First Born
COVER him over with daisies white,
And eke with the poppies red,
Sit with me here by his couch to-night,
For the First-Born, Love, is dead.
Poor little fellow, he seemed so fair
As he lay in my jealous arms;
Silent and cold he is lying there
Stripped of his darling charms.
Lusty and strong he had grown forsooth,
Sweet with an infinite grace,
Proud in the force of his conquering youth,
Laughter alight in his face.
Oh, but the blast, it was cruel and keen,
And ah, but the chill it was rare;
The look of the winter-kissed flow'r you've seen
When meadows and fields were bare.
Can you not wake from this white, cold sleep
And speak to me once again?
True that your slumber is deep, so deep,
But deeper by far is my pain.
Cover him over with daisies white,
And eke with the poppies red,
Sit with me here by his couch to-night,
For the First-Born, Love, is dead.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Ocean Blue
Your eyes, blue like the ocean.
Our love, as big as the ocean.
My fingers run through your hair like fish through water.
When you touch me, a serge runs through me, like a jelly-fish sting.
When your lips close on mine, its like being in the jaws of a Great White Shark.
Your hair blows in the brezze like waves in the ocean.
But it all leads back to your eyes- blue like the ocean.
poem by Jessica Popham
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Great Spirits
When the earth was young
and the air was sweet
And the mountains kissed the sky
In the great beyond, with its many paths
Man and nature lived side by side
In this wilderness of danger and beauty
Lived three brothers, bonded by love
Their hearts full of joy
they ask now for guidance
Reaching out to the skies up above
Great Spirits of all who lived before
Take our hands and lead us
Fill our hearts and souls
with all you know
Show us that in your eyes
we are all the same
Brothers to each other
In this world we remain truly
brothers all the same
Give us wisdom to pass to each other
Give us strength so we understand
That the things we do
the choices we make
Give direction to all life's plans
To look in wonder
at all we've been given
In a world that's not always as it seems
Every corner we turn
only leads to another
A journey ends, but another begins
Great Spirits of all who lived before
Take our hands and lead us
Fill our hearts and souls
with all you know
Show us that in your eyes
we are all the same
Brothers to each other
In this world we remain truly
brothers all the same
Brothers all the same
song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Changeling ( From The Tent on the Beach )
FOR the fairest maid in Hampton
They needed not to search,
Who saw young Anna favor
Come walking into church,--
Or bringing from the meadows,
At set of harvest-day,
The frolic of the blackbirds,
The sweetness of the hay.
Now the weariest of all mothers,
The saddest two years' bride,
She scowls in the face of her husband,
And spurns her child aside.
"Rake out the red coals, goodman,--
For there the child shall lie,
Till the black witch comes to fetch her
And both up chimney fly.
"It's never my own little daughter,
It's never my own," she said;
"The witches have stolen my Anna,
And left me an imp instead.
"Oh, fair and sweet was my baby,
Blue eyes, and hair of gold;
But this is ugly and wrinkled,
Cross, and cunning, and old.
"I hate the touch of her fingers,
I hate the feel of her skin;
It's not the milk from my bosom,
But my blood, that she sucks in.
"My face grows sharp with the torment;
Look! my arms are skin and bone!
Rake open the red coals, goodman,
And the witch shall have her own.
"She'll come when she hears it crying,
In the shape of an owl or bat,
And she'll bring us our darling Anna
In place of her screeching brat."
Then the goodman, Ezra Dalton,
Laid his hand upon her head:
Thy sorrow is great, O woman!
I sorrow with thee," he said.
"The paths to trouble are many
And never but one sure way
Leads out to the light beyond it:
My poor wife, let us pray."
Then he said to the great All-Father,
"Thy daughter is weak and blind;
Let her sight come back, and clothe her
Once more in her right mind.
"Lead her out of this evil shadow,
Out of these fancies wild;
Let the holy love of the mother
Turn again to her child.
"Make her lips like the lips of Mary
Kissing her blessed Son;
Let her hands, like the hands of Jesus,
Rest on her little one.
"Comfort the soul of thy handmaid,
Open her prison-door,
And thine shall be all the glory
And praise forevermore."
Then into the face of its mother
The baby looked up and smiled;
And the cloud of her soul was lifted,
And she knew her little child.
A beam of the slant west sunshine
Made the wan face almost fair,
Lit the blue eyes' patient wonder
And the rings of pale gold hair.
She kissed it on lip and forehead,
She kissed it on cheek and chink
And she bared her snow-white bosom
To the lips so pale and thin.
Oh, fair on her bridal morning
Was the maid who blushed and smiled,
But fairer to Ezra Dalton
Looked the mother of his child.
With more than a lover's fondness
He stooped to her worn young face,
And the nursing child and the mother
He folded in one embrace.
"Blessed be God!" he murmured.
"Blessed be God!" she said;
"For I see, who once was blinded,--
I live, who once was dead.
"Now mount and ride, my goodman,
As thou lovest thy own soul!
Woe's me, if my wicked fancies
Be the death of Goody Cole!"
His horse he saddled and bridled,
And into the night rode he,
Now through the great black woodland,
Now by the white-beached sea.
He rode through the silent clearings,
He came to the ferry wide,
And thrice he called to the boatman
Asleep on the other side.
He set his horse to the river,
He swam to Newbury town,
And he called up Justice Sewall
In his nightcap and his gown.
And the grave and worshipful justice
(Upon whose soul be peace!)
Set his name to the jailer's warrant
For Goodwife Cole's release.
Then through the night the hoof-beats
Went sounding like a flail;
And Goody Cole at cockcrow
Came forth from Ipswich jail.
.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Gen The Witch
The witch broods
In the middle of her self-centred, self-limiting
Tangled web of lies, half-truths and self-deception;
Ventures forth only to capture and envenom the unwary, the unknowing.
Their minds ingested by the witch,
Her progeny, indulged in baubles, chocolate and late-night television
Are ever by the maternal sac
Imbibing further indoctrination and instruction.
The witch, the witch, the witch.
poem by Mill Field
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Take Care, Take Care
Bind up, bind up your dark bright hair
And hide the smouldering sunken fire.
Let it be held no more than fair,
Nor yourself guess how rare, how rare
Its movement, colour and deep fire.
Your eyes they have their consciousness,
Your lips their grave reflective smile,
Your hands their cunning for distress:
Your hair has only beauteousness
And hid flame for its only guile.
That glowing hair on shoulders white
Is pride past sum: take care, take care!
Even to dream of wish'd delight
Too much perturbs the ebb of night--
Bind up, bind up your burning hair!
poem by John Freeman
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I Love You
I love your lips when they're wet with wine
And red with a wild desire;
I love your eyes when the lovelight lies
Lit with a passionate fire.
I love your arms when the warm white flesh
Touches mine in a fond embrace;
I love your hair when the strands enmesh
Your kisses against my face.
Not for me the cold calm kiss
Of a virgin's bloodless love;
Not for me the saint's white bliss,
Nor the heart of a spotless dove.
But give me the love that so freely gives
And laughs at the whole world's blame,
With your body so young and warm in my arms,
It sets my poor heart aflame.
So kiss me sweet with your warm wet mouth,
Still fragrant with ruby wine,
And say with a fervor born of the South
That your body and soul are mine.
Clasp me close in your warm young arms,
While the pale stars shine above,
And we'll live our whole young lives away
In the joys of a living love.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Little HandMaiden
The King's son walks in the garden fair-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
He little knows for his toil and care,
That the bride is gone and the bower is bare.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
The sun shines bright through the casement high-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
The little handmaid, with a laughing eye,
Looks down on the king's son, strolling by.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
'He little knows that the bride is gone,
And the Earl knows little as he;
She is fled with her lover afar last night
And the King's son is left to me.'
And back to her chamber with velvety step
The little handmaid did glide,
And a gold key took from her bosom sweet,
And opened the great chests wide.
She bound her hair with a band of blue,
And a garland of lilies sweet;
And put on her delicate silken shoes,
With roses at her feet.
She clad her body in spotless white,
With a girdle as red as blood.
The glad white raiment her beauty bound,
As the sepels blind the bud.
And round and round her white neck she flung
A necklace of sapphires blue;
On one white finger of either hand
A shining ring she drew.
And down the stairway and out of the door
She glided, as soft and light,
As an airy tuft of a thistle seed
Might glide through the grasses bright.
And into the garden sweet she stole-
The little birds carolled loud-
Her beauty shone as a star might shine
In the rift of the morning cloud.
The King's son walked in the garden fair,
And the little handmaiden came,
Through the midst of a shimmer of roses red,
Like a sunbeam through a flame.
The King's son marvelled, his heart leaped up,
'And art thou my bride?' said he,
'For, North or South, I have never beheld
A lovelier maid than thee.'
'And dost thou love me?' the little maid cried,
'A fine King's son, I wis!'
And the king's son took her with both his hands,
And her ruddy lips did kiss.
And the little maid laughed till the beaded tears,
Ran down in a silver rain.
'O foolish King's son!' and she clapped her hands,
Till the gold rings rang again.
'O King's son, foolish and fooled art thou,
For a goodly game is played:
Thy bride is away with her lover last night,
And I am her little handmaid.'
And the King's son sware a great oath, said he-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
'If the Earl's fair daughter a traitress be,
The little handmaid is enough for me.'
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
The King's son walks in the garden fair-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
And the little handmaiden walketh there,
But the old Earl pulleth his beard for care.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
poem by Archibald Lampman
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First Time
Your hands run over my breast
You slide into me as my body welcomes you as a guest
Your body moves as mine follows the steady pace
As your body bulids it becomes a race.
My mind fills with this lust, this power
It shall not let me cower
As the slow beat of music plays
I think of how how this memmory shall stay,
In my soul, in my heart.
My body waits for the feelings to start.
As reality hits I remember this is my first
But now the need for more fills my heart with it's thirst
You move faster, and the pain fills my veins, my blood
The pain quickly lessons as my thoughts turn to mud
Here and now is all that matters, all I seak
My body arches as we reach the peak.
Your movements start to slow
Making movements a steady flow
You retreat from my body yet remain in my grasp
As our breaths turn to steady gasps.
You smile as you lay next to me
And now the whole of you I see
I smile back as your lips press against my hair
I meet your lips with mine with passion with care.
I close my eyes to replay the moment over again
And now my true life will begin
My head lay on your chest
My eyes filled with you, this feeling is the best
I close my eyes again to sleep.
For tomorrowI will weep.
But now I sleep in your arms, in your mind
This night was so calm, so kind
As your arms pass over me one last time
So slow, so soft for you know this is my first time
You watch me as I sleep, and ask yourself if I left what would you do
So you kiss me once more and whisper 'I love you'
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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White Comedy
I waz whitemailed
By a white witch,
Wid white magic
An white lies,
Branded by a white sheep
I slaved as a whitesmith
Near a white spot
Where I suffered whitewater fever.
Whitelisted as a whiteleg
I waz in de white book
As a master of white art,
It waz like white death.
People called me white jack
Some hailed me as a white wog,
So I joined de white watch
Trained as a white guard
Lived off the white economy.
Caught and beaten by de whiteshirts
I waz condemned to a white mass,
Don't worry,
I shall be writing to de Black House.
poem by Benjamin Zephaniah
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Maybel
Her eyes,
Eyes of a serpent,
Cruel and filled of hate.
They seemed to stare into you and pierce
to soul with their needle like daggers.
This venomous bite,
It helps you see thru the beautiful mask.
Her hair,
Hair as rich as a flame,
It frames you face in its twisted ways,
Matted and witch like blowing in the breeze.
Skin so pale,
A paper white,
She towers above you,
A sickening sight.
poem by Lauren Ellis Leung
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Reconsideration
Brothers, why shall we despair?
Brothers, why do we never care?
Let's be considerate and fair,
Life is good and love is there,
Don't deny love which moves every part,
We all need one another's heart,
So do it and put the horse before the cart,
We all ask for one common feature,
To care and help our human nature,
Life is not get, take and torture,
Life is trust, care and such a feature,
Let our life be eternal and rare,
Have you heard words of care,
Please never quit nor them tear.
poem by Omar Jabak
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