The Man who Dared to Court a Witch by Jenny Thompson

Once upon a time, a witch found

a strange tall man in her garden.

He did not look up, just kept

on weeding when she called to him.

He would not even give his name

as he gently pruned ‘round the blooms.

When she asked why he’d come to her

garden, he simply said: to help.

And help he did for four seasons,

taking nothing, asking nothing,

lending sun-kissed muscles for free.

When golden harvest came again

she chose to offer him his choice

of all her petals, leaves, and roots:

soothe a headache or ease a cough?

He smiled at her and shook his head.

You’ve always helped our little town

don’t you think it’s time we helped you?

We? she asked, thinking of pitchforks.

Neighbors did not oft come with spade;

just him, the only one of his kind

to suggest she rest in the shade.

Well, perhaps it’s just me for now,

but someday they’ll all come around.

She found herself unable to

believe with him that sweet hope,

but she was pleased that he believed.

For decades she had toiled alone

in her barely hidden cottage,

apart in the protective woods.

To share her work and sometimes rest:

a gift for which she never hoped.

How about a cup of cider,

she suggested, to warm you up?

So it was a man came inside,

the first to sit at her table.

The sun slipped past the horizon

as they spoke and laughed together,

and the moon smiled down at them both

as she peeked through bedroom curtains.

Jenny Thompson is an IT analyst based in Pittsburgh. Her poetry has been published in Strange Horizons, Star*Line, and the anthology Post ROE Alternatives: Fighting Back.