A tad NR rated
White and lily the witch is still and stark as a whisky whisper.
Casting a spell as the caldron spills its hollow thrill.
Summoning lust of her fellow's trust.
Cascading loins thirsty like a lioness about to ambush her quarry's push.
Shrewd and shallow she swills and swills her wooer's quest.
Drained of all her power she slumbers for hours.
Wake with a grin she kisses the wind.
Thrusting her lady lumps upon the dusty dawn the witch be gone.