The Lioness

In the land of dawn the castles rise

Where the lioness rules and roams

Her golden mail wrought in kind

With grand champions of old

 –

A burden to sway our worldly souls

Ever borne upon proud shoulders

From widest plain to farthest knoll

Where she walks all will heed her

“Potion” – Writing Prompt

This is my response to a writing prompt for five-sentence fiction by Lillie McFerrin. Her prompt for this week was the word “potion”:

Colour bled across the surface of the liquid in the stoneware basin and the glazed surface grew warm under her palm.
Trembling, her other hand skittered across dry leaves and petals, whispering, to the decoction that she had prepared under the night sky.
It smelled cold and strange, and she hesitated a long moment before tipping it into the basin.
Red, purple, indigo spasmed and coiled into a dark heart at the centre of the potion.
Closing her eyes, she prepared to lower her face, her consciousness, into the secrets of the world beneath the rowan tree.