Brewing up some trouble
Well that's what witches do
Finding new ingredients
So dreams for her come true

Little touch of arsenic
A bit of Mom's old lace
What a great concoction
One you can't replace

She says she found solution
Her wrinkles will be gone
Little green around the gills
Bright color of the lawn

She works her way to fortune
She stirs that pot all day
Hopes to find solution
She has no time to play

Today she'll take it easy
She'll let her chores just go
Wants to go from door to door
Needs backing just once more

So when she comes a knocking
Run and hide in fear
She's looking for ingredient
It might be you "my dear."

~ Francine Pucillo ~
©used with permission.