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Irish German blood boils volatile magic burning blasting firing mystical dreams conjuring Celtic tribes’ witchcraft born of pagan belief as fierce Druid priests also curse fools who step on crickets

the Red Witch teaches never kill a cricket expect trouble if you do get ready for pure German pow-wow power coming to curse you your son your daughters years beyond your cricket murder payback for your human evil manifested in pain so know well my Pennsylvania Dutch spell we protect crickets at all cost

if you saw fire blaze east to west across black and blue southern night sky you might understand nature’s blazing tip blasting white hot tailpipe exhaust  shooting star inferno into nighttime  pagan nature that  one day will snuff the world with ease blowing out life’s candle to say creation’s final good night to man-made gods

getting older day by day tight stiff hesitant to step into fire still burning dark shadow scars on life’s charred walls so warm yourself in reflection welcome fears as sweet gifts prepare to face the fire god who remains our barbaric friend wielding a burning sword to stand fierce with us until the end

in the jungle he exchanged his green beret for a loin cloth rode his own elephant fighting beside Montagnard tribesmen with Phoenix Program Project Delta Pleiku Mike Force then home to work as a security guard patrolling JC Penny’s in the mall Harry never killed a shoplifter for his country not a single one decades […]