A witch in the woods
With pine needle smells
Has just had gas fitted
For cooking up spells
Her cast iron cauldron
Forever kept boiling
To keep her spells warm
And save them from spoiling
© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well Mother never told me that my spells would spoil? I best check my ice box then! LOL Good one Sir David! 10!