i
doublely double toil and trouble
a watched cauldron nae boils nor bubbles
high toned witches brew takes hours to reduce
into an ichor coaxed from hells rubble
ii
beauty is what beautilly beauty does
it sticks to the heart like peach to its fuzz
and once caught it is not easy to budge
love potions work but they outlast the buzz
iii
the billigits bottled the green vials
each they one corked with a smiley smile
there is gold in such said the witch laughing
but hearts wane crossing the dusty miles
iv
love came to be for heathcliff and kathy
who discovered late its penalty
forever together is a long time
to wildly roll in the greenly green
Saragun Springs 
oh dastardly doings in billigitland, wives witches, and spells and potions. Eeeevilly evil. Love it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Diane
Thank you–as the prospect of actually reaching a hundred quatrains became real, about here, Miss Dame Daisy took over–which promises that they become even more bizzaringly bizarre!
Leila
LikeLike
My poetry – R or X rated, reader beware.
Lust poem
With you I want a romance
Since we were eighteen, I wanted into your pants
We’ve got something, I don’t know what
OMG what a butt!
Your nurses’ exams I would proctor
If only we could play doctor
When you stare at my crotch
I think that we should take it up a notch
I like bacon, I like ham
How about I check your clam
Do you know what I meant
When I said you make me pitch a tent?
Roses are red, violets are blue
If you go down on me
I’ll go down on you
Percy Dovetonsils
Your were warned
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Doug
Ah yes the institution of dirty poetry still lives. Much to the vexation of Nantucket. Somebody should open a publishing house for it: The Bathroom Wall Press.
Interestingly this coincides with the recent closure of another smutty instution, Elmo’s Adult Books, which had been just steeping in its filth at its “new location ” in the Charleston district of Brem, WA since 197_.
Put under by a chain store pervo biz called “Lovers”
The world is a childish and useless place.
Leila
LikeLike
…And there are far far far far too many fools afoot in it…with their brains in their pants – or no brains…..
LikeLiked by 1 person
L
I love the new dark turn these verses take. The echoes of English Literature reverberate here, but they do not overwhelm the poetical magic, instead they undergird it and act as haunting echoes and reminders, potent sounds of meaning that enwrap and enhance (and produce) the mood (and moods)…
I can feel Lady Macbeth staring through the mists, Macbeth watching the forest of doom move toward him, and K and H living and outliving in Oscar Wilde’s proverb:
“When the gods wish to punish us, they give us what we most desire.”
D
PS,
When I said there were too many fools in it, I meant the world in general and was riffing off this beautiful sentence: “The world is a childish and useless place.” That sentence overmatches Kurt Vonnegut in its profundity and in the way it doesn’t (and does) say what it really means. Levels and layers behind and within language = Deep Literature which leads one onward to new illuminating worlds within one’s own mind and spirit (not escapist, simplistic, distracting trash, which the world has had too much of for many centuries now…piles and piles of it…)
LikeLike