Self-Seeding Edit 1 newsclippings and ellajam

[newsclippings]

The witches drive could make you gasp, Magical things, is this linked to the last poem I crit?
self-seeded Columbine, burst through cracks, More cracks? I though I just read a poem about cracks
rampant now, since mother passed.
Alone she stares with radio twoThese two lines are lovely. You paint morning well.
egg on toast and an infused brew.

A little girl on holiday from school,
collecting petals could seem cruel, The rhyme's a little peculiar. I see you're going for an A A A B B patter so far.
stealing colour is against the rules.
Her eyes widen as she sees the drive, I would consider revising, using a line that seems less basic.
a witches curse is worth the prize.

Lost to the beauty of the intricate flowers,
didn’t hear the door, won’t be missed for hours,
now trapped inside the spinsters tower.
What is it you want, what are you doing?
oh look at my plants, they’re all ruined.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry don’t give me a tail,[/color] Comma after the first sorry but not the second?
I’m making some perfume, was her tale,
a present for mum, she started to wail.
Unravels a memory, takes her back,
the spinsters frown begins to crack. You really like the word crack.

Oh are you indeed, well let me see,
she had bags and buckets full as could be,
first step inside, then you'll go free.
Pestle and mortar complete with spells,
pass me some more let’s see how it smells. This stanza makes me think this poem would better fit poetry for fun.

Two hours it took to grind out the essence,
from pungent petals a flirtatious fragrance, Maybe near-rhymes are more your niche.
three small bottles ready as presents.
One, the young girl gave to her mother,
she kept one herself, which left, one other.

She told her friends that the witch was white,
together they knocked one summer’s night, What does this line mean?
I’ve brought you a gift, if that’s alright. The shift from third to first person may need some rethinking. Or quote tags.
Why of course it is, and what a delight,
I didn’t know young ladies could be so polite.

The young ladies visits helped her grow old, lady's?
always looked shocked by the stories they told,
she watched them bloom, vibrant and bold.
So every year when the Columbine appear,
she places a drop behind each ear. Mer, ending.

Hi there TOMH. I see that you're experimenting with rhymes. It's nice to see that they aren't too forced, though your poem does seem to dip and lose some of its initial fervor (attention grabbiness). I do have to say though I'm a little biased against the theme. Thanks for the read!