Only a Witch


Halloween Vintage 05
Image via Wikipedia

She sat
primly on a bar stool,

Alone and waiting
for someone,

That was my
best guess,

Because she
ignored everyone,

 

Occasionally
she would sigh,

And someone
would buy her a drink,

She would offer
an angelic smile,

Giving the donor a reason to think,

 

One by one
she rebuffed their efforts,

As each man offered her his best pitch,

Mentally she
was called some names,

But none had
nerve to call her “b—-”,

 

The men
became bolder as they drank,

While I sat silently
sipping a cold brew,

Comments
flew at her, coarse and rank,

While the
night grew darker and a cold wind blew,

 

As a rule
when the drinks flow free,

Most women
get prettier as the night wears down,

But when she
was accosted by two on a spree,

Her face
wrinkled up into a giant frown,

 

Sparks flew
from her once beautiful eyes,

And the
roundness that filled her coal black dress,

Was
forgotten for she was no longer a prize,

Their
apologies they quickly tried to express,

 

She glared
at them as time stood still,

Then picked
up her hat and wished them well,

Her voice
changed and became high and shrill,

While all
stood frozen and under her spell,

 

Out the door
she walked and onto the street,

She didn’t call
a taxi, on a broom she flew,

Her voice
was raspy and definitely not discreet,

“When Halloween
is over, I’m coming back for you,”

 

I’m not sure
if that was clearly meant for me,

But when night
gets darker and a cold wind blows,

The men from
that tavern wait eagerly,

And I sit
patiently dreaming, for who knows?

 

Her words might
be for me and they might be true,

She was
beautiful so I’ve been practicing my pitch,

Yet I’m
careful to stay sober as I sip just one cold brew,

Because I’m
hoping she turns out to be only a witch.

 

 

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