No Fun For Me, No Fun For You
As the moon folds on itself
And the sky turns to dark,
The merry men cease their silly songs
And the witches come out to play.
Cackle high, cackle low
And all the flowers grow
Up into the trees, high up through the sky
Where rest the weary heads of you and I.
But we are awoken by howling so fierce
And tumbling to the ground we go:
Spiral down the rabbit hole,
And pop goes the weasel.
Feel a finger on a shoulder
Clawing down your back.
Oh hush now little lamb-
Don't talk back.
The witch will tease and taunt you
While you writhe against the chains
To the beat of falling rain
Again, again, again!
Cackle low, cackle high
Look how quick the flowers die
Wither and twist, crying through the mist
As you forget the ones you've kissed.
"No, we don't enjoy this,"
Said the wicked little bitch,
"But it's in our hearts and souls my dear,
We've got a scratch to itch."
Fingernails and toes, nails and little stubs
Don't forget to clean behind your ears:
Scrub a dub dub
Scrub a dub-- sorry-- you've missed a spot of blood.
Suddenly, alone, you smell a drop of jasmine rot
Reminds you of some silly things you thought you had forgot:
The taste of ginger brew, the start of something new--
When I walked through the door.
Cackle soft, cackle loud
"Why you are much too proud!"
I said to you and ran away.
Over my shoulder I cried, "Though we may meet again someday!"
Years go by and your hair turned white
While mine to black turned.
Fond memories you soon forget
Till I walk through the door…
I'll bring you back and-- just like that--
Your blood runs warm once more.
Cackle loud, cackle soft
Ignore the ones who scoffed
When I told you what I give,
When I told you you would live.
It doesn't matter who, how, why, I gave
An unimportant soul in exchange,
For I brought you from the grave.
And you should really be grateful dear
For Hell is cold this time of year.
Cackle true, cackle long
What a silly little song
You sang when the moon was full.
But the night is over now and here I must
Wait for the tides to rush from the shore,
So I can find you hiding once more:
Hiding from truth, hiding from youth
You stupid, superstitious creature.
Accept what you are given and take it with a smile.
Don't bite the hand that feeds you.
Stop acting like a child.
The world is kind to those who take it
Mold it, shape it, and fully remake it.
And that is what I do for you.
That is why this heart beats blue:
Cackle long, cackle true
Here is the place where I love you.
-Alison Belle Bews (2016)