A Witch of Green

Poetry

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A witch of green
is rarely seen
her nose pimply and red,
teeth of brown
an eternal frown
‘til children are in her stead.

She waits and hides
a tree her disguise
she sharpens her nails in wait,
she puts them in bags
to carry and drag
candy was her bait.

The witch of green
was different not mean
she never made them her meal,
it was all to be
just for a cup of tea
with children, she did steal.

Then when she was done
filling them with some
of her delicious party cakes
she let them go
as friend not foe
hoping for their return, an ache.

Her magic was gone
tricks she had none
lonely as a forgotten sow,
she never had friends
nor letters to send
forsaken she was now.