Haven't written in a while for this book... I choose to do something different. I choose to focus on the witch from the owls tale as she creates a spell with her potion. She to me is considered a ethereal, goddess like being. I thought it was a different way to add something to this story rather than have a story being told by the Owl to the little ones (despite the owl being the main character) I like to highlight other aspects or characters for writing and I make a lot of changes with my writing.
This short narrative poem was inspired by Ursula from the little mermaid when she's throwing potions and stuff in her cauldron like the badass sea witch she is (my witch isn't a bad/evil character just to put it out there) but I think Ursula is a cool character with a lot of interesting traits to consider writing about.
The following image used for this story's inspiration is photographed by a Russian photographer Svetlana Belyaeva and I found this image caught all aspects I wanted to include, light, shade, contrast... the girls face I found resembled slightly the witch I had made up in my head, someone flawless and beautiful. Anyway, enjoy part five.
***********************
Cinnamon and Paprika
On the tips of the narrow, embrace the dusk. Witness the golden embers lighting up the sky, the stars hidden amongst the fog, hiding in shadows.
Stalking the vibration from the core of this world - where fire dances with rock. Where the dancer's wrists roll with every ring her bangles make, exquisite jewels gleaming bright, seaweed locks dance in the night. Her creativeness conjured by impulsive voraciousness, iris's entrancing, full and secret, much like the moon.
She glides ethereally, smearing mint on her walls to freshen the air. Her hands smell of Jazmine - she initiates her spell, throwing Cilantro and Rue ever so citrus into the boiling fumes. Saffron sweetness a delicate honey, Vanilla binding it all together - noticeably but not completely obvious.
Peppercorns and ginger thrown into the abyss - a dissolved smoke. Crushing earthy, musty oregano, with clove and nutmeg, building the smoke. She adds her final ingredients, cinnamon and Paprika - a warm bittersweet and a fiery deliciousness.
She waves her arms over the large pot, murmuring her foreign chant to create her concoction to sizzle and bubble. She felt the energy running from her fingertips all the way to her heart. The smoke encompassing her being awaiting. She knows it is ready now, who she gives it to will be decided by fate alone.
