no hairy lip has she or wrinkle

a far cry from ancient crones

her skin as smooth as marble

sweet melodies in her moans

 

black cats are always a clue

in the house hers does roam

its carbon eyes following me

at its muzzle flecks of foam

 

waking last night in terror

to the Devil she's chanting

buck naked and sweating

my blood she's decanting

 

her eyes huge and yellow

the cat's licking its chops

brimstone eats the duvet

on my chest a frog hops

 

raw power fills my lungs

is my member detached?

pentangle on the ceiling

what evil's she's hatched

 

yet I feel strangely better

no longer short of breath

Mother Shipton's spared

me a banal COVID death