I, witch, grow like a tree
rooted and branched
through any obstacle
cement crumples
wood splinters
brickwork torn down
belief, my soil
faith, my sun
hope, my water
the gods
the goddesses
patreon my growth
green leaf
brown leaf
cracked stems
I withstand it all
tears nourish too
cries wake up the sun
fury breaks hardened earth
cut down
I, witch, am still here
hope is a seedling
all a witch ever needs
to grow from nothing
we, witch, always find a way
By tmostbye
France Marie Karlsen is an avid wordsmith… bordering on the line of obsessive. She also lives a double-life as an accounting student and financial professional. France made her debut on the literature scene by publishing three short stories in the anthology 50 Shades of Awkward (writing as Antonia Bryan) and she has published poems with Some Poets. When she is not reading or writing, France also reviews books. And when the muses do escape her (on the odd occasion), France can be found walking with nature where she wonders about all things magic.