Childrens Book-Minerva’s Magical Potion Poem by Christine K. Trease

Childrens Book-Minerva’s Magical Potion

Rating: 5.0


A long time ago when me mum’s mum was small,
when frightful ghosts haunted the Trankleville Hall,
my great, great grandmother made a name for herself
using common ingredients found on her shelf.

With one tale from a ghost, some ground wing of bat, Minerva created the first witch’s hat.
Edible, multi-purpose potion,
I hear its still used for a quick ageing lotion.

This miraculous mixture that was cooked up that day
changed forever how we witches play.
Sprinkled with spiders captured in the Far East,
pumpkin guts stirred in for quick-rising yeast.

One single, white hair from her faithful black cat,
tossed o’er her left shoulder and into the vat.
Her bubbly cauldron, boiled full with green goo,
had a little crushed skeleton bone thrown in too.


I fear I’ll divulge her whole recipe,
so it’s sure that you’ll hear no more tips from me.
She flicked her wand, with just the right twist
(it takes some practice; it’s all in the wrist) .

With a poof and a boom, roiling thick purple haze,
my great, great grandmother knocked back in a daze
with a force that warranted deep, long bewails,
and blew off Minerva’s twisty, green fingernails,
she had boiled a concoction with just the right flare
that made for nice dipping of posh witch’s wear.

What a magical potion for mystical feats
(and sometimes for making poisonous treats) .
Once dipped in my great, great grandmother’s large vat,
a common chapeau made the first witch’s hat.

So lovely, so sinful, breathtakingly black,
every witch in the universe began to pack.
Off on their brooms, gliding swift through night skies,
they collected themselves, every shape kind and size,
at my grandmother’s doorstep to purchase their wear.
Every witch who was anyone needed a pair!

My great, great grandmother toiled endless long nights
to crank out enough witch’s hats for her frights.
They watched my grandmother with great admiration creating charmed hats for the witch population.

Minerva’s work was never done.
Before one hat dried, another begun.
One hat then two, then ten then a million.
My great, great grandmother must have made a gazillion.

Her magical goo, which was downright good dipping
was found to be palatable by witches for sipping.
By mistake, she flicked a bit on her broom
and found that it made it dodge and zoom.

She created swift moving brooms with pride,
ones only accomplished witches could ride.
She prided herself on her dipping creation.
Its versatility was simply amazing.

Used to subdue the most violent beast
or used to create a charmed witches feast.
Her concoction was used without hesitation, what a wonderful, sinful delightful creation!

My family, it’s told, in the Witch’s Gazette
will go down in history, it’s a sure bet,
for making the finest cauldron fondue,
as only the ancestors of Minerva could do.

It’s a natural talent my family holds;
one would think I would tire of dipping clothes.
But I have to admit, even more than roast rats;
I love my great, great grandmother and dipping hats!

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