Witchcraft Poem by Mark Heathcote

Let's up the ante and marry
no more spiel, my hearts yours
my gaits clod lightens daffy.

On the slightest up-draft
a smile lifts, and my heart soars
enchanted by her witchcraft.

Once I flew to a bright star
there through a heavenly gate
in expanses that were afar.
I draught the thin air of fate.

I brewed in her cauldron.
I clawed at my own shadow that selfish
Merlin whistled like an empty flue.

I decided, then. Spare no expense
Let us up the ante and marry.
What's my alternative defence?
Let's spare no expense - let's marry.