Cauldron
Beneath the cauldron, the fire crackles
while above it and old witch cackles
as she stirs her brew and popping in ingredients.
Web of spider, eyelash of newt,
wart of toad and little boy blue’s flute.
She looked around and cackled some more
as the bubbles in the cauldron multiplied more.
She added even more ingredients;
toenail of bat, stinger of bee,
skin of snake and droppings of mole.
The old witch continued to stir her stew,
as it must be served piping hot.
She then mumbled incantations over the bubbling brew.
The problem was who would eat it.
She turns and looks my way with a big bow in hand.
Shaking my head, no thank you,
get some other mug to have your stew.
27 January 2011
poem by David Harris
Added by Poetry Lover
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