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She could never get it quite right
Mixed the craziest things together
Fire and brimstone, all through the night
Eye of newt, pinch of rat and a feather

She stirred the cauldron many times
Until she couldn’t stir any longer
So, into the pot, she decided to climb
Thought the brew should be a bit stronger

All you could see were boots on her feet
On her legs, orange stockings of lace
Twas told her nectar was hard to beat
As should be, in any witch’s case

Bubbles made their way to the top
One by one, they escaped in the air
Esmeralda stayed, no, she didn’t stop
Sucking down her brew, without care

When the others arrived to sample
Her head was still stuck in the crock
This witch wasn’t setting a good example
She was drunk to the hilt, what a shock!

They tried to pull her from the pot
They couldn’t budge her, not an inch
Esmeralda now known as a wicked old sot
Best be careful, you could be her next pinch


October Writing Prompt – Brimstone brew – Day 3/31

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
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