Witches

The cauldron’s lit and bubbling well,
and witches chant their Wiccan spell.
Their hats point upwards to the skies
while cackles in the silence rise,
and float along on wind or breeze,
In the darkness, through the trees.

Their hair is matted, lank and dark,
eyes full of evil, dull and stark.
With bony fingers that coil and twist,
to send their magic through the mist,
A warty face and toothless grin,
Pointy nose and thoughts of sin

A witch is such a scary sight,
If you see one out at night.
Just turn and walk the other way,
And take that trip another day.
You never know what spell she’ll cast,
If I were you I’d  run. Run FAST!!




3/10/08                                                                                                18 lines

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