Dark Witch of Zanvia

Standing on the edge of the lake
The wind swirls and carries wisps of water
Up into the sky.
A woman stands at edge
Her gaze holding firm;
Her concentration holds.
She draws the water up
Funneling it higher.
With her hands
She draws its movement out
And the water moves
Like a wall; it gathers
Then reforms
And dances back to the surface
Like a curtain of shear
Lace like delight.
The woman smiles
Lowers her hands
And returns to the forest
Where the trees bow
And the wind whispers
Her name...
Aria

Lines = 23 lines

This poem won 1st place in December 7, 2014's Writer's Cramp.