Friday, October 7, 2011

Poem: A Witch's Dark Brew

  A Witch's Dark Brew

The cauldron is steaming with brew,
But not like a regular stew,
No carrots or taters or onions inside -
Like something your Grandmother Elsie would try,

No, this cauldron’s brew is not like a stew,
It’s filled with strange things like a used leather shoe,
There’s even a spider and bug with five eyes,
A hair from a yak and two bramble bush pies,

A thorn from a rose, a seed from a clove,
A pointy green cactus and fruit from a grove,
A dash of hot sauce; slime from a swamp,
And crunchy brown things that you don’t want to chomp,

The brew will keep brewing until it is right,
It should be complete by Halloween night,
But who will be tasting this brew from the pot?
I hope it's not you; you really aught not,

The brew that you’ll taste will turn your eyes black,
And then turn your head from the front to the back,
Your toes will curl up; your nose will curl down,
And your mouth will take on a permanent frown,

So, best to steer clear of the witch’s dark brew,
I’d hate to see anything happen to you!

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