Be Gone

Be Gone

They said,
“If the broom fits, ride it!”
And she did, of course
Controlling, fearless and fierce
Aware of all secrets
And what might be source
 
Gifted with calculating skills
And knowing where souls and
skeletons were concealed
She used information acquired
Holding feet to the fire
Shameful stories were revealed
 
Stopping one day
To take refreshment
From an offered chalice 
It was poison she drank
That took her life
A death from obvious malice 
 
Despised by her enemies
Loved by her followers
She was both target and idol
An illustrious force of nature
A hurricane in a sandstorm
No one could ever unbridle
 
RIP you crazy witch
and haunt us no more
It’s enough we have to see
A constant calling card
Your hat on a pole
When all we want is to be free
 
 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

In response to Sue Vincent's Thursday Prompt
Sign - Write/Photo

Word Prompt

Illustrious

Soul

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