The Potion

Contempt is sprinkled with a pinch of pique
and slowly added to her odious pot.
She whisks some spite into the mix to wreak
revenge. It bubbles until piping hot.

Enticed, you sniff the effervescent brew
and salivating test a morsel first,
but soon you’re hooked on ladles of her stew
and gobble quickly, unaware it’s cursed.

Awakening, Chimera’s madness surges
through your body, bending as it shakes
with rage. Unleashed, your tongue succumbs to urges
bludgeoning your prey until he quakes.

As anger ebbs away the victim grieves
and burnt with guilt you vow a change of heart.
but impish temptress cackles as she leaves
I’m sure you’ll love my elderberry tart.

© capricorn 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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Bugger….don’t think I like your friends
Great piece though HaHa!


I think we may all know someone like that, sadly. A very well written poem, especially loved the first verse. 😉 Sounds like a second helping would be the end of him .
Alison x


Not a love potion, then? Good piece, Eira.

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