Hour of the Witch

Maharaja’s palace
and liveried footmen
An old english church
where clocks have stood still.
May stone walls see nothing
when he touches me.
May there be stairways to heaven
from these gardens of gold.
and if you should look for me
where wild horses run,
there by the window
in his arms i will be.
Under chameleon skies
bewitched once again.
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8 thoughts on “Hour of the Witch

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