Spider Magic

I have woven a web

around you, as if of gossamer

or blown bubble gum,

If anyone should force

their will upon you

it shall be strong

as steel though invisible

and fine to the touch.

No beak may shred it,

no hands tear through,

no claws puncture

its embrace.

No one can hurt you.

No one can touch you

unless you will it.

You are safe.

Bee Hex

When your hex came for me

at 3am as a room full

of angry bees, I whispered

to them in tones smooth as honey

amid the surround-sound hum,

caught each one

in an chipped glass tumbler,

tipped it into the crisp night air.

It took two hours

to free tham all.

Not one of them stung me.

When your hex arrived

as tidal waves, I learned

how to swim,

then I became the ocean.

When it came for me

as a letter full of contempt

I folded it into an origami lotus

floated it in the sea at sunset.

When you transformed

into a thunderstorm, I became

an ancient tree dancing

in your wild embrace, drinking

up your needle rain with my roots.

I have called down the moon

borrowed her light to stitch a cloak,

to keep you safe. I’ve sent

it to you with a note.

It will soak up all your pain

and help you breathe.

Bio: Lucy Whitehead writes haiku and other poetry. Her haiku have been published widely in various international journals and anthologies, and her poetry has appeared in Barren Magazine, Mookychick Magazine, and Twist in Time Literary Magazine. Her Twitter handle is @blueirispoetry.

Photo by freestocks.org on Unsplash