The Gewgaw Witch Poem by Clive Culverhouse

she conjured up a cunning rasp
a gewgaw lyre-like harp in clasp
to crooked teeth held in their grasp
then twanged at midnight with a blast

this higgled haggled haggly crone
did dance on graves while all alone
her gewgaw raising mottled bone
‘til joined by dead with rotting moan

bats within the steeple saw
the witch's pointy nose and jaw
and from her mouth came sounds galore
an array of growls from her gewgaw

so off did dance and prance and play
the bones of dead and her away
from grave to street did people say
beware the gewgaw witch today