From Wuthering Heights
To withering frights
Lo! i am the witch that be
I live on the sand, just by the sea

I cause the sand, to fall into your bread
I laugh at your curses, and what you have said
And watch with joy, as the seagulls attack
And fly away with, your seaside snack

I don't have a broom, as i use a sail
I cackle, and curse, and occasionally wail
And should you wonder at my green-ness indeed
It's due to my diet, of eating seaweed!

I especially enjoy things, when the sky turns grey
And a storm is brewing, with plenty of spray
With a cold wind ablowing, sand everywhere
I cackle, and chuckle, as it gets in your hair

Apart from all that, cold, and ice
Deep down inside, I'm actually quite nice
If you meet me, i'll happily include you
In my eye of newt, and wing of bat stew!

by Jemia

Vocal ingenuity
A generous gratuity
I wish could be removed from me
But I would still write poetry

--Which someone else would have to read
As from the page the inkblots plead
"Give us a voice!" the letters said
Without a voice they would be dead

But no-one reads my poetry
And so its voice is left to me
To show the World, or just to try
Be truly heard before I die

tell fingers to write
in compendious form
perchance grant respite
from inner turmoil storm
from nature gregarious
in mind-jail contrarious
through written commune
in time opportune
elucidate my state
perchance reciprocate
perchance to clear
the fog and the fear
perchance exculpate
the guilt o' mind-state
to elicit response
from brain so ensconced
in darkness of mind
state in which i find
the people all around
as i in state confound
a mental funambulism
of paranoia 'n autism
bemused befuddled
black cotton wool not cuddled
all druthers denied
in polyglot mind
in liaison with the devil
unpalatable to one level
thoughts unmanageable
as soft putty malleable
not by monsters in the air
of zoomorphic form to scare
but by monsters in the flesh
catch mind as in a mesh
construe in mental rift
in milieu o' crooks' grift
yet through timeless antidote
with words' rhyme in note
have cleared mind somewhat
from dregs of coffee-***
so onward mettlesome horse
we'll trot together yet
at vanguard o' life's course
till time to pay our debt
till hope for imprimatur
from my true life Protection
in place of light so pure
till time's resurrection.

I hope every Man, Woman, Child, Organization,
       and Government knows.
For better or worse, the light that shines behind it,
        Determines now big, it's shadow grows.