Walpurgis Night
Posted: Mon May 30, 2011 9:52 pm
Walpurgis is revelry. I was fortunate or perhaps unfortunate to smuggle myself
into the inner sanctum disguised as a black overweight cat on the sweeping section of Henrietta's broom.
This poem has been sanitised so the form is in utter disarray and brief. I am not, and do not want to,describe
the scenes that unfolded before my fake pussycat eyes. Though I was fortunate to be voted in as the biggest
and blackest cat of the night.
JB
Walpurgis Night
Ephemera,
Ephemera— dull-beat,
a bell-song knell that lingers
upon scribbly-scented broom.
Broken shadows
peel off misty sheets
that waft to halls
of mephitic origins;
coven rings rejoice
in eponymous circles;
swinging hips kiss:
seduced by pleasure.
Walpurgis! Walpurgis!
a casting of black shrouds.
Sunken shrivelled breasts
renew to youthful suppleness.
Cackled high syllables
soften to sublime silken honey.
Let the fun begin.
What a night! Bloody Henrietta let me down: there was Henrietta pissed a parrot. For goodness sake I had to drive the broom home. It was 3.30:am German time when we left. You ever tried to shove a pissed witch on the pillion seat of a broom; screaming out 'Hubble bubble toil and trouble'-- shit, waving her black nailed hands around setting off mortar bomb strength explosions in a misty black Saxon sky. Only two buttons on a broom, red for go and blue for reverse. Then you have to ride the most skinny arsed horse that ever been in existence. The number of times I flipped under the broomstick with Henrietta breathing fire and brimstone with a lopsided smile on her face patting me on the head saying 'Whose a good pussy then' I lost count. The first sight of the good old Barrenjoey lighthouse was such an exhilarating sight that actually cried tears of happiness-- I was home and safe. I was home at last. I came to a screaming halt at my residence hopped off the broom gave the reins to Henrietta and sad. 'The wooden colt's all yours baby. Next Walpurgis night; No Invitation, I'm not going-- count me out.' Henrietta gave me a kiss on the cheek of cat suit cheek and said. 'See you next year Big Boy.' And with that took off sparks and cinders back draft smashing me to the ground. My last sight of Henrietta was a crazy out of control Catherine wheel silhouetted in the moon.
It had been a good night and I was tired, so with a yawn placed a key in the front door,gave a yawn, and wandered off to bed.
John
into the inner sanctum disguised as a black overweight cat on the sweeping section of Henrietta's broom.
This poem has been sanitised so the form is in utter disarray and brief. I am not, and do not want to,describe
the scenes that unfolded before my fake pussycat eyes. Though I was fortunate to be voted in as the biggest
and blackest cat of the night.
JB
Walpurgis Night
Ephemera,
Ephemera— dull-beat,
a bell-song knell that lingers
upon scribbly-scented broom.
Broken shadows
peel off misty sheets
that waft to halls
of mephitic origins;
coven rings rejoice
in eponymous circles;
swinging hips kiss:
seduced by pleasure.
Walpurgis! Walpurgis!
a casting of black shrouds.
Sunken shrivelled breasts
renew to youthful suppleness.
Cackled high syllables
soften to sublime silken honey.
Let the fun begin.
What a night! Bloody Henrietta let me down: there was Henrietta pissed a parrot. For goodness sake I had to drive the broom home. It was 3.30:am German time when we left. You ever tried to shove a pissed witch on the pillion seat of a broom; screaming out 'Hubble bubble toil and trouble'-- shit, waving her black nailed hands around setting off mortar bomb strength explosions in a misty black Saxon sky. Only two buttons on a broom, red for go and blue for reverse. Then you have to ride the most skinny arsed horse that ever been in existence. The number of times I flipped under the broomstick with Henrietta breathing fire and brimstone with a lopsided smile on her face patting me on the head saying 'Whose a good pussy then' I lost count. The first sight of the good old Barrenjoey lighthouse was such an exhilarating sight that actually cried tears of happiness-- I was home and safe. I was home at last. I came to a screaming halt at my residence hopped off the broom gave the reins to Henrietta and sad. 'The wooden colt's all yours baby. Next Walpurgis night; No Invitation, I'm not going-- count me out.' Henrietta gave me a kiss on the cheek of cat suit cheek and said. 'See you next year Big Boy.' And with that took off sparks and cinders back draft smashing me to the ground. My last sight of Henrietta was a crazy out of control Catherine wheel silhouetted in the moon.
It had been a good night and I was tired, so with a yawn placed a key in the front door,gave a yawn, and wandered off to bed.
John
