The Wordsmith's Forge

This poem came out of the October 7, 2025 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt from Dreamwidth user Wyld_dandelyon. It also fills the "Alone in the Woods" square in my 10-1-25 card for the Fall Festival Bingo. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with Dreamwidth user Fuzzyred. It belongs to the series Practical Magics and follows "Maybe She's Just Singing."


"The Songwitch"


Music is magic
and magic is music.

For her they are
one and the same.

In the morning, Soraya
sings up the sun and
in the evening, she
sings down the moon.

Alone in the woods,
she sings to the birds
and the insects in
the forest primeval.

When the people of
the village come to her,
then she sings healing,
mends torn flesh and
soothes broken hearts.

Soraya sings the crops tall
and sings the cows fat.

She sings the memories
of her people, the histories,
and spins them out as
a glimpse of the future.

Sometimes she sings
love to the young
and peace to the old.

Soraya is not a maiden,
but the music is pure
and the unicorns creep
close just to listen.

Music is magic
and magic is music,

for she is the songwitch.