This is Halloween

 

 

  

The Witch

by Joan Ashurst

She sits upon a little stool and stirs her big black pot,

She places wood upon the fire to make it very hot.

Her nose is long and crooked, she wear a pointed hat,

By her side a broomstick and on her lap a cat.

Her home is just a hovel in the middle of a wood,

And from what they say about her, she isn’t very good.

Nor is she very friendly, and she lives there all alone,

except for that big pussy cat that’s only skin and bone.

A witch she is, and therefore she whisper magic spells,

But what it is she murmurs she never, never tells.

Hanging in a corner are bats with outstretched wings,

Rat and beetles, frogs and worms and other creepy things.

They all go in the mixture that she’s stirring night and day,

And I’ve never heard of any that ever got away.

I wouldn’t like to meet her, I might go in the pot,

And though I’m really very brave I think I’d rather not.

Whatever spell she whispers, and whatever she may cook,

I’m glad she’s just a story in my sister’s fairy book.

 

May you have many visitors at your door tonight…………..I’ll be back with goodies