MY LOVELY SORCERESS (The 97th Musketeer's Inspirational Challenge)

a poem by Conrad Kruger van den Bergh, South Africa - poetry writer, author, poet

“Mazzy!” I call to her
“…it’s getting dark and cold! Let’s go back!”
but she keeps on dancing
her body fluid below her scarlet dress
a sorceress
lifting upwards
from here
the cold shore of King’s Beach
a dark figure casting skyward spells
against the ocean’s cold wind
rhythmic to a timeworn song
coming tin-can like
in one enchantment after the other
from her old tape recorder
that she flopped a few feet away
upon the sand

she still dances the same way she did
since when I got to know her
and her madness
a long time ago
reaching for each coming moon
in a witchery of desperation
each a new weeping incantation
caused by the harshness of life
an urge to leave the Earth

so I leave her to sing along with the tin-can voice
just for a while
“…then I'll just take what's left of me
right back to where it used to be
and you'll go sail your magic carpet, far across the sky…!”
Dr. Hook, one of her favourites
and she smiles before she ends the lines
her sing-along voice rising
above the water’s murmuring
a chant of delight

“Come on!” I call to her again, “…let’s go back!”
but she keeps on dancing
into the cold wind tearing across the shore
arms swaying above her head
then turns her eyes to me
sees me through her blond curls
wild threads stretched by sharp gusts
ends clenching the first darkness
in fierce falls of silvers
summoning the evening’s violets
breathing purples down into the folds of her breast

“How come we only shag when we’re drunk?” she calls back to me
over the tin-can voice and incoming waves
and the wind
“What?” I hear the question but don’t know the answer
“We’ve never made love before! We just shag!” she calls again, “…our romance sucks! I mean, we’ve known each other for what? It’s like forever you know! And I don’t even know what we are! I mean, are we supposed to be lovers, or partners, or just shaggers or what?”
“What?’ I call back to her again
she holds her gaze upon me
and finds
inside of me
that only she
or knows
and not even me
smiles again
“Nothing!” she calls back
and turns her eyes
towards the dark sky

but I keep mine
on the curves of her body
devilish below her scarlet dress
lovely is she to me
watching her dance like this
singing along to Dr. Hook
a tin-can voice over an old tape recorder
below the purple enchantment of the coming night
“Come on!” She yells again, “…sing the song! Sing with me!”

but I don’t
I just watch her dance and listen to her voice growing louder: “…I wish I could have made it more like the movies for you…!”
she turns her eyes to me again; “Come on! Sing with me!”
her arms sway wilder above her head
and she lifts her chin, high
letting darkened blond twists fall into the sway of her back
I love to see her like this
free, infinite

“OK!” I call back to her
because I know
despite being broken all the time
her sins were less than mine
she was after all
better than me
and I've sang many songs
for her before

so I watch her dance
beneath the first cold stars
yell out loud; "OK Mazzy!"
and sing along with her
and Dr. Hook; “…the castles that you built so high!
Were just too steep for me to climb!
And I guess these dirty streets of mine…
…were just too rough for you...”

Conrad Kruger van den Bergh (Copyright, 2019)

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