I am not like you.
There is gold in my veins
singing a song,
only jewels hear.

My heart beats a rhythm,
but my feet are free -
I fly beyond broomstick imagery
and the need of blood and fire
to sacrifice
intolerance.

Do no harm?
My mantra is to serve.
It does not make me weak
it calls me servant of you.
Is not a witch a teacher
of wise ways?

Call me Maiden,
call me Crone,
never call me modern.
The gold in my veins
came with my sisters sacrifice.

I hear their burnt offerings
in the winds.
When my bare feet
are scorched in beach
and earth,
they touch me, fingers caressing
my soul
reminding me their cauldrons
are but wishing wells of hope,

Still they whisper my name.



.

NICE

This Compliment comes to you from Laska Paul .
I was Flabbergasted . I read it Thrice to make sure I read the Correct things and understand the meaning . Your Poems have an in-built rhythms, rhymes, a nice Texture , tone and Good Concept.
GoodLuck . Liked by Me..so I'm sending Flowers 2u.

Nice poem .

Thank you guys and gals. Just a bit of nonsense here. Sometimes I am in the mood to write.
Flowers for you all