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WHO’S KNOCKING AT YOUR DOOR THIS HALLOWEEN

scary mary by malcolm bradshaw

Come to our Halloween party.Take part, send your poetry and be part of the show!

halloweenxxxxxxxxxxxx

SCARY MARYS HALLOWEEN RECIPES AND THERE’S LOT’S MORE TO COME SO LET’S GET READY FOR THE WITCHING HOUR

JOIN OUR COMMUNITY – PROMOTE YOURSELF – SEND IN YOUR POETRY – READ AND ENJOY ALL THE WONDERFUL POETRY – COMMENT AND INTERACT WITH OTHER POETS – JOIN THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF POETRY

 

COMMUNITY

 

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The Raven BY EDGAR ALLAN PO – YOUR FAVOURITE POEM

 

ravon

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visiter,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
            Only this and nothing more.”
    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
            Nameless here for evermore.
    And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
    “’Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
            This it is and nothing more.”
    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
            Darkness there and nothing more.
    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
            Merely this and nothing more.
    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
    “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
      Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
            ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”
    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
    But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
            Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
    Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
            With such name as “Nevermore.”
    But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
    Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
    Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
            Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
            Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”
    But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
            Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
    On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
            She shall press, ah, nevermore!
    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
    “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
    Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
    On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
    Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
            Shall be lifted—nevermore!
YOUR FAVOURITE POEM SENT IN BY YOU WHAT’S YOURS

To The Dead in the Graveyard Underneath My Window

grave yard 22

How can you lie so still? All day I watch
And never a blade of all the green sod moves
To show where restlessly you toss and turn,
And fling a desperate arm or draw up knees
Stiffened and aching from their long disuse;
I watch all night and not one ghost comes forth
To take its freedom of the midnight hour.
Oh, have you no rebellion in your bones?
The very worms must scorn you where you lie,
A pallid mouldering acquiescent folk,
Meek habitants of unresented graves.
Why are you there in your straight row on row
Where I must ever see you from my bed
That in your mere dumb presence iterate
The text so weary in my ears: “Lie still
And rest; be patient and lie still and rest.”
I’ll not be patient! I will not lie still!
There is a brown road runs between the pines,
And further on the purple woodlands lie,
And still beyond blue mountains lift and loom;
And I would walk the road and I would be
Deep in the wooded shade and I would reach
The windy mountain tops that touch the clouds.
My eyes may follow but my feet are held.
Recumbent as you others must I too
Submit? Be mimic of your movelessness
With pillow and counterpane for stone and sod?
And if the many sayings of the wise
Teach of submission I will not submit
But with a spirit all unreconciled
Flash an unquenched defiance to the stars.
Better it is to walk, to run, to dance,
Better it is to laugh and leap and sing,
To know the open skies of dawn and night,
To move untrammeled down the flaming noon,
And I will clamour it through weary days
Keeping the edge of deprivation sharp,
Nor with the pliant speaking on my lips
Of resignation, sister to defeat.
I’ll not be patient. I will not lie still.
And in ironic quietude who is
The despot of our days and lord of dust
Needs but, scarce heeding, wait to drop
Grim casual comment on rebellion’s end;
“Yes, yes . . Wilful and petulant but now
As dead and quiet as the others are.”
And this each body and ghost of you hath heard
That in your graves do therefore lie so still.

BY ADELAIDE CRAPSEY

Written in A Moment of Exasperation

WITCHES VAMPIRES AND ELVES BY DON HOLMES

LOOK OUT SCARY MARYS ABOUT WHO DARES TRY MARYS RECIPES ON THIS HALLOWEEN NIGHT?

TRY ONE IF YOU DARE

  • Cinder toffee

This recipe is classed as easy

Prep time:
20 min, plus setting
Cook time:
25 min

My favourite recipe for glossy toffee – perfect for passing around at Halloween and Bonfire Night parties

Ingredients


 Method
1. Line a 15cm square tin with greaseproof or parchment paper.2. Put the syrup, sugar, butter and water into a large heavy-bottomed pan set over a medium heat. Stir until the sugar has dissolved, before turning up the heat and bringing to the boil.3. Cook, without stirring until a teaspoon of the hot toffee mixture becomes a hard ball when dropped into a jug of cold water. If you have a sugar thermometer, it should register 138C. Remove the pan from the heat.4. Add the vinegar and bicarbonate of soda to the pan – take care as the toffee mixture will bubble up and rise in the pan. Pour immediately into the lined tin and leave on one side.5. After about 15- 20 minutes, when the mixture has begun to set, score the toffee in square shapes, using a sharp
Bangers and mash

This recipe is classed as easy

Prep time:
10 min
Cook time:
30 min
Serves:
4

Rich onion gravy transforms this family favourite into a meal fit for a king fro

Ingredients

For the onion gravy

For the mash

  • 1 kg flourypotatoes, King Edwards or Maris Piper are good
  • 100 ml milk
  • 75 g butter
  • 1 grate ofnutmeg
  • salt and freshly groundblack pepper

For the sausages


Method

1. First make the gravy. Heat the olive oil and butter in a saucepan and soften the onions and thyme over a very gentle heat. It’s best to cook them, without colouring, for about 10-15 minutes. Give the onions a good stir now and again.

2. Remove the lid, turn up the heat and continue frying the onions until they turn a deep russet brown. Add the wine and bubble until it has almost evaporated. Pour in the stock and add the bay leaf. Season with salt and freshly ground pepper.

3. Simmer, uncovered for about 15 minutes, until thickened. Leave on one side.

4. Heat the oven to 190C/gas 5. Put the sausages in a small roasting tin, drizzle with olive oil, and cook for about 20 minutes, until golden. Turn once or twice while in the oven.

5. While the sauce and sausages are cooking, start with the mash. Peel, half (or quarter) the potatoes and transfer to a deep saucepan filled with lightly salted water. Boil until the potatoes are tender.

6. Drain in a colander and return to the pan. Shake the potatoes over a very low heat for a few seconds until they have dried out. Crush with a potato masher or you could use a potato ricer.

7. Heat the milk with the butter, nutmeg and seasoning and gradually add most of it into the potatoes, beating well between each addition. An electric whisk is good for this. Check the consistency by adding more hot milk if needed. If you’re planning on keeping the potatoes warm, pour a thin layer of hot milk mixture over the surface and cover with a lid.

8. Warm the sauce and serve with the sausages and mash.

Toffee apples
This recipe is classed as intermediate

Prep time:
20 min
Cook time:
20 min
Serves:
6

Taste nostalgic childhood memories with Roopa Gulati’s traditional toffee-coated apple

Ingredients

For the toffee coating

  • 225 g demerara sugar
  • 110 ml water
  • 0.5 tsp vinegar
  • 2 tbsp golden syrup
  • 25 g butter

For the apples

  • 6 apples
  • 6 wooden skewers, for holding the apples – ice lolly sticks will do

Method

1. Dissolve the sugar in the water over a moderate heat. When it has dissolved, stir in the vinegar, syrup and butter. Bring to a boil and cook without stirring until it reaches hard-crack stage (138C) or hardens into a ball when dropped in a jug of cold water. This should take around 10 minutes boiling time.

2. While the syrup is cooking, pierce each apple with a wooden stick. Once the toffee is ready, dip each apple into the hot toffee, turning it around in the syrup so that each one is fully coated.

3. Leave to harden on a lightly oiled tray before serving. If you’re planning to keep them for a day or two, wrap the apples in cellophan

Scary Mary says don’t forget mum and dad on Bonfire night
 

Hot mulled cider punchIngredients

  • 100 g brown sugar
  • 1 pinches salt
  • 2 litres cider
  • 1 tsp ground allspice
  • 1 tsp  wholecloves
  • 1 pinches nutmeg
  • 2 oranges, peel only, cut into segments
  • 6 cm cinnamon sticks
  • 50  g  blanched flakedalmonds,   lightly toasted

Method

1. Combine the sugar and salt, and add to the cider in a large saucepan.

2. Tie the spices in cheesecloth and add to the cider. Slowly bring to the boil. Cover and simmer for 20 minutes.

3. Remove the spices and add the orange peel, cinnamon stick and toasted almonds before serving in a punch bowls

Chilli con carne

This recipe is classed as easy

Prep time:
20 min
Cook time:
1 hr 30 min
Serves:
6

Ingredients

  • 2 large onions
  • 700 g lean stewing beef, fat removed and cut into 1-2cm cubes
  • 5 clovesgarlic, crushed
  • 800 g canned chopped tomatoes
  • 2 green peppers,  sliced
  • 3   green or redchillies,   chopped, seeds left in if you like your chillies fiery
  • 2 tsp  groundcumin
  • 1 tinned redkidney beans, 400g
  • 1 tsp brown sugar

To serve


Method

Heat the olive oil in a casserole,or saucepan and fry the meat until it changes colour – about 5-7 minutes. Add the onion and garlic and stir for a minute or so before tipping in the tinned tomatoes,chopped chillies, peppers, and a good pinch of salt.

Cover the pan and simmer for about an hour, until the meat is tender and the liquid reduced to a thick sauce. If it gets too dry during cooking, pour in a little more water.

Add the cumin, kidney beans (and a little of the bean liquid,if you like)and the brown sugar. Simmer for a further 10 mins before serving with rice, a spoonful of sour cream, grated cheddar cheese and and coriander leaves as a garnish.  For added spicy kick, serve this dish with hot chilli sauce.

Halloween treats & drinks

Halloween treats & drinks

Cooking time

Prep:30 minsCook:20 mins

Skill level

Easy

Servings

Serves 10

These spooky treats are perfect for adding a touch of fun to a Halloween party

Additional info

  • Freaky fingers can be frozen

Nutrition

kcalories
-
protein
-
carbs
-
fat
-
saturates
-
fibre
-
sugar
-
salt
-

Ingredients

Freaky fingers

  • 100g caster sugar
  • 100g butter
  • 1 egg yolk
  • 200g plain flour
  • ½ tsp vanilla extract
  • 20 blanched almonds
  • red food colouring, paste is best (optional)

Brainballs

  • 85g popping corn
  • 1 tbsp vegetable oil, plus extra for shaping
  • 25g butter
  • 85g marshmallows

Bloodthirsty squash

  • 1l lemonade
  • 1l cranberry juice
  • juice 3-4 limes

Buy Ingredients

Method

  1. For the freaky fingers, place the first five ingredients and a pinch of salt in a food processor and whizz just until a ball of dough forms. Tear off a golfball-size piece of dough and use your hands to roll into finger-size cylinders – you should get about 20. Place on a baking sheet lined with baking parchment – a little apart as they will spread during baking. Use a knife to make a few cuts, close together, for the knuckles. Place an almond at the end of each finger and trim away excess pastry around the edge to neaten. Place in the fridge for 30 mins, heat oven to 180C/160F/Gas 4, then bake for 10-12 mins just until firm. Leave to cool a little, then paint the almond with food colouring, if you like. Makes 20.
  2. For the brainballs, place the popping corn and vegetable oil in a large pan set over a medium heat. Stir the kernels around the pan to coat in the oil. When the kernels starts to pop, place a lid firmly on top and turn the heat down to low. Cook, shaking the pan often to stop the popcorn burning or sticking, until the corn has stopped popping, about 5 mins. Tip into a bowl, discarding any unopened kernels. Heat butter and marshmallows over a low heat until melted. Pour over popcorn and mix well until coated. Lightly rub oil over your hands and shape the popcorn into small balls. Set aside on a tray lined with baking parchment and leave to set. Makes 10.
  3. For the bloodthirsty squash, fill up a kitchen glove with water, secure the end with a freezer clip or rubber band and place in the freezer overnight. When ready to serve, stir together 1 litre each lemonade and cranberry juice with the juice 3-4 limes. Pour into a punch bowl. Remove the hand from the freezer and use scissors to carefully take off the glove. Place in the punch bowl and serve. Serves 10.

A Rhyme for Halloween – Promote Yourself

cheshire-cat-pumpkinloop

Tonight I light the candles of my eyes in the lee
And swing down this branch full of red leaves.
Yellow moon, skull and spine of the hare,
Arrow me to town on the neck of the air.
I hear the undertaker make love in the heather;
The candy maker, poor fellow, is under the weather.
Skunk, moose, raccoon, they go to the doors in threes
With a torch in their hands or pleas: “O, please . . .”
Baruch Spinoza and the butcher are drunk:
One is the tail and one is the trunk
Of a beast who dances in circles for beer
And doesn’t think twice to learn how to steer.
Our clock is blind, our clock is dumb.
Its hands are broken, its fingers numb.
No time for the martyr of our fair town
Who wasn’t a witch because she could drown.
Now the dogs of the cemetery are starting to bark
At the vision of her, bobbing up through the dark.
When she opens her mouth to gasp for air,
A moth flies out and lands in her hair.
The apples are thumping, winter is coming.
The lips of the pumpkin soon will be humming.
By the caw of the crow on the first of the year,
Something will die, something appear

A doggy message for keeping safe

YOUR FAVOURITE HALLOWEEN POEM

 

1st Witch:

Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d.

2nd Witch:

Thrice and once, the hedge-pig whin’d.

3rd Witch

Harpier cries:—’tis time! ’tis time!
 

1st Witch:

Round about the cauldron go:
In the poisoned entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone
Days and nights has thirty-one
Sweated venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first in the charmed pot.

All:

Double,double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

2nd Witch:

Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder’s fork and blindworm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing.
For charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

 

All:
Double,double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and couldron bubble.

3rd Witch:

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witch’s mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg’d in the dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew;
Gall of goat; and slips of yew

Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse;
Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips;
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,-
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,
For ingredients of our cauldron.

 

All:
Double,double toil and trouble,
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

 

2nd Witch:

Cool it with a baboon’s blood,

Then the charm is firm and good.

Witches’ Chant (from Macbeth) 

by William Shakespeare

“The Knock-Knock” – Promote Yourself

doo

There was a knock, a thud,
and then
a quiet whisper at my door.

My creeping eyes
follow straight through it.
I got up, I went to walk
towards it, reaching
for the handle, ready to
turn it, open the door.
But then something

stopped me.

And I quickly
backed away
from the doorframe.

Voices mixed with grumbling
strangled and strange sounds
of desparate howling
all fly into my ears, I see
my hands begin to shake, feel
my head begin to ache
and all of the swollen
entryways around me.

Then,
upon a curtained window
closed off to block
the cold from outside
I hear it, this screaming
beyond human, beyond reference
as it begins tearing into
my residence.
All alone I waited for it,
about to tighten fists
with tightened lips,
but something once again

stopped me.

A blackened misty figure
walking over to me, I
quiver and shake
in my heart, boots.
I go to strike out
but I am too late
as something else

stopped me.

The mist spoke truth
though I couldn’t hear it in the air
discussing through telepathy
the reasons it was really here.
To take me down, to eagerly
swallow my soul?
To slice my damaged body
into a more
damaged hull?
Leaving me to
rot here alone?

I go to ask, ever
so politely,
but something stops me.

Then I realize, this thing
towering above me, claws at
the ready, it says
it’s me. It’s me.
Death is coming.
But something

stopped me.

A shadowy hand
in league with what
I’ll never see, a
frightened boy now
frightfully free.
This Death, this creature?
They are both me.

by Cory Thrall

Scary Mary’s Back

Gathering around the witches cauldron
The ugliest group ever seen
Mary uttering nasty vile spells
Then she let out a blood-curdling scream

The leader of the nasty coven
Was the witch named Scary Mary?
Her face was full of warts
With a moustache and beard all hairy

They danced around the cauldron
Throwing toads and spiders into the brew
Mary was supposed to be experienced
But alas she had not a clue

Her cat Boris was watching
With a smile across his face
To see the witches leaving
At a fast and furious pace

One thing they had forgotten
As they were flying around the floor
They were so high on the brew
They forgot to open the door

Boris by now was in pieces
As they all crashed together in a heap
He was rolling around laughing
As the witches struggled to their feet

Scary Mary was now quite vexed
As she tried to kick start her broom
Boris now was crossing his legs
And was quickly leaving the room

Scary Mary by now was quite dizzy
As she staggered she bumped her head
The last time Boris saw her
She was casting spells in her bed

Malcolm Bradshaw

A Halloween poem – de constructed – Promote Yourself

witch-mary

Trying to write a scary poem
For the Writers’ Chest.
So many ways to start,
I wonder which is best.

Do I go for ghoulish,
Or something more refined?
Do I make the horror clear,
Or leave it to the mind?

Then there comes the rhyming
Of all those scary creatures.
Zombie? Vampire? No rhymes.
Do I focus on their features?

And how to make things scary,
In the structure of the rhyme?
It’s hard to make the reader jump
When they can guess ahead in time.

Maybe I should back off
Leave this one to the writers.
Poets are tender lovers
But terrible monster fighters!

 Al LANE

https://altheauthor.wordpress.com/

Scary Mary’s Halloween Adventure

witch-mary

 

It was a dark night on Halloween

As a young man ventured down a lonely road

The owls were screeching and hooting

 In the hedgerow he came across a toad

 

Excuse me young man, “said the toad”

Will you please kiss me on my cheek?

The young man was quite willing

 He then kissed the toad that let out a screech

 

Then in a puff of smoke and fire

The toad turn into something hairy

The man then recognised that face

As the face of Scary Mary

 

She had been released from a goblins spell

 Thanked the young man as she mounted her broom

She set off with her cat like a rocket

As she headed straight for the moon

 

 Seen by all telescopes around the world

With her cat who sat at the rear

His eyes were now bulging

All his fur turn white with fear

 

Scary Mary was by now quite dizzy

As her broomstick was now in a dive

Boris her cat by now was apprehensive

As he prayed that he would survive

 

Scary Mary managed to control her decent

She guided her broomstick on to the road

Where the devious little Goblin was waiting

Who then turned Scary Mary back into a toad?

 

Malcolm Bradshaw

The Raven and the Pumpkin – Promote Yourself

raven

 

The raven with the sleek physique,
Popped the seed into its cheek.
From the seed a pumpkin grew.
The raven coughed it up, and flew
Up, away on broomstick sleek.

It draped itself in night’s mystique,
Searching for the ancient sign -
Golden countenance divine.
Having found this rare antique,
Was carried back within its beak.

The pumpkin, carved to match that face,
Brought living evil to that place.
Pumpkin crept without a creak,
And ate the bird before it shrieked!

So this year to protect your house,
Light a pumpkin candle… or else!

 Al LANE

 

 

halloween

Witches Brew

brew

Down in the depth of the scary forest

A witch was preparing her brew

This was the first time she’d made it

As she did not know quite what to do

 

She put in everything she could think of

From a bats wing to a toad that was pink

She stirred it up with her witch’s broom

And for good luck threw in the kitchen sink

 

She took a sip from her witch’s brew

Then decided to fly on her broom

But alas things didn’t go to plan

 Became dizzy as she flew round the room

 

Then out of the window and into the woods

Swerving in and out of the trees

By now her vision was erratic

As she was seeing in two’s and three’s

 

 Totally losing control of her broom

She hadn’t a clue what to do

Holding on for dear life

Wishing she hadn’t sipped her powerful brew

 

Her faithful cat called Boris was with her

She turned and asked Boris “What shall I do”

Boris by now was quite frightened

To be honest he hadn’t got a clue

 

The witch continued her frightening ride

Murmuring spells under her breath

Boris was saying a prayer

As they both journeyed on to the west

 

The witch decided to take drastic action

As she jump off her broom in mid air

By now Boris had lost the will to live

As he was hanging on to the witches hair

 

As they plummeted towards the ground

One last spell the witch did cast

To wish everyone a Happy Halloween

Then they both landed safely at last

 

Malcolm G Bradshaw

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