The Winter Witches

Down in the woods lived the winter witches,
Brewing tasty stews to satisfy their itches,
But time and time again,
They had the same problem,
The main ingredient required one or two children

Up in the village lived the little Riches,
Benny and Junebea dressing in their britches,
They had the same dream,
They did-
The witches brew a scheme,
To rid -
Their little bodies down below the iron lid

So they prepared their very own stew,
With a cauldron, fire, and what have you

And there they waited by the window sill,
To tackle any blotches,
A delicious thrill

Below stormy clouds flew Heigl and Ramlitches,
Scoping out the village with its blackened niches,
“Slimper down,” said Heigle, “Ho!”
Ramlitches left an undertoe,
“Look beyond the pumpkins covered in blue snow!”

The witches eyed the home from two vertical pitches,
Dark besides a bedroom dancing with the fire’s whispses,
Ramlitches cackled, “lets go!”
She licked wet lips and so,
They swooped their brooms towards the twisting village below

The suspense, it mounts
Both prepare to pounce
It’s a terrible scene by all accounts

But Benny and Junebea moved the pot which now is,
Waiting by the window with its bubbling flitches,
And two ladies flew still,
Down through that windowsill,
And found themselves victims of kids with far superior skill

They thrashed and yelped,
“My nose, it melt!”
“I think a sausage leg I smelt!”

Plans can unravel with similar glitches,
Nothing is failsafe from nasty hitches,
And who is to blame?
For this brief fair game?
The children and the witches should be equally ashamed

But fear not, the story,
still it twitches,
The cousins of the dead lived in nearby thickets,
Truth be told, what goes around,
Calls for naughty children to be browned,
They were sadly unprepared for the flock that soon flew down

Should this go on we’d find that still it switches,
Victor or victim, between children and witches,
But who will win the war?
Listen on, to be sure
The children found a way out of the gruesome gore

“Wait!” called Benny, “Halt!”
“But my cousin’s garnished with salt!”
“Yes, but don’t you see that we’re both at fault?”

A murmuring cast amongst the several witches
“We need simmering kids for our brewing delitches”
“Tried a carrot?” asked Junebea
“Or a delightful little pea?”
The witches shrugged, not one had tried, they all could agree.

“Vegetable soup for a healthy witch is
Better for flying, which takes muscle pitches”
Benny brought out a can
Steamed it on the fire and
To their delight the taste was even better than childran

So that’s about the end of the story’s hitches
The children share veggie soup with the winter witches
And so far so good
Feasting ladies haven’t understood
Plants are green because they grow from witches dead as wood

But should they find out…
Beware, those winter witches.