As her brews start to bubble
she toils and troubles you
for two white eggs and some flour,
She takes small girls in
to her fearsome kitchen and
helps them to bake for an hour,
Each night, eerie light shows
and judgemental wind blows seek
to gust her right out from her niche..
But her stockings stand steady,
Pan and broom at the ready, to
clean; she’s our neighborly witch.