Wednesday, 26 April 2017

Poetry for Witches

Ooooooo Where are we . . . What . . . Who

Are we there yet DAD

Witches Witches Everywhere
Over here
And over there
Under beds
Without a care
Waving wands
To try and scare
Witches Witches on Witches brooms
Fly about in darkened rooms
Black cats watching as they play
As the Witches
Fly past . . . . . All night and day
Cauldrons bubble on the fire
As the Witches
Make the spells they desire
Turning princes
Into big green frogs
With eye of newt
And tail of dog
Grumbling other folk say they're very bad
Have a warty nose
And might be mad
So sometimes Witches just for spite
Turn the milkman’s milk very pink instead of white
Or tell small children
They are very nice
Before turning them
Into tiny mice
Which the black cat will then Promptly eat
Because as we know
Cats like a bit of furry meat
And so it seems
We have reached the Time
When Witches
Have decided to end . . . . . .  This Rhyme
And some would say


Just fine

With one more short and poetic line . . . . . such as


1 comment:

  1. Great post. I enjoyed your poem, plus witches are great.

    Stopping by from A to Z: What did he say?