Tie my cloak, don my hat,
Grab my broom, pick up the cat,
Outside, sit astride the stick,
Holding tight, 'cause it is quick,
Me and black cat number seven,
Going to join the witches coven.
Flying high, in the sky,
People point as we pass by,
What's wrong with them,
Have they not seen,
Us witches out at Halloween.
We only meet up once a year,
When this night's o'er, we'll disappear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Awesome poem! I'll need to remember it for when Halloween comes around, so I can read it again. Black cat #7...too cute! ! Hugs, Dee