He, who hath tamper’d with Mother’s children.
Ripped out their hair and limbs.
O’ there, murder begins.
The stench fills the air.
The Apothecary who hath tamper’d with their blood.
In his magic vial.
Creating a new potion; an elixir.
Mother could do nothing.
But watch her children die.
For magic that could cure.
O’ Sweet Apothecary – who found the magic.
The ability to heal a witch’s wart.
Or to cure bodily plagues.
Sweet scented. Taste of weed.
The one the tongue yearns for-
Hie you, he who hath fathered the poison.
And bade Romeo to his eternal sleep.
Next to his beloved Capulet.
Thou art curs’d.
With the knowledge
of the mixtures
brewing in your cauldron.
As the sweet and bitter scents taint the air.
Like perfume and smoke,
and hot limestone.
Permeate the air…
Come hither, Apothecary;
and give me a vial of this strange magic.
To sweep away the pain.
And numb the senses.
So that I feel no agony.
My heart goes solid.
I pay thee with my finest gems.
A translucent crystal duo and a stone of love.
A single rose withered.
Hardened into a precious keep.
I pray the bribe is enough.
Your drugs are quick.
Quick to grasp away the essence of life.
And the battered soul.
Fill the vial with tears of hate.
Brew with flames of scorn.
The colour is green of envy.
Marbled with blood of devastation.
Welcome the breath of Death.
I think from the reference the reader would know at least one inspiration that led to this poem’s creation. I find R&J’s apothecary to be a character quickly forgotten, so I switched on a little spotlight for him.