A Wicked Witch Poem by Josh Alfred

A wicked witch
Rose from a ditch
She let out screech
Her broom was in reach
She cursed, then flew out
Cackling her fading sound.
Made a trail of mystical smoke
Left, to cast magic on virtuous folk.
On her witching hour
All will tremble, all will cower.
The ground she'll scorch
Not just with autumn's
Red. yellow, orange,
She'll haunt and cast
A heinous spell
On the sick
And on the well.
Ugly with gas,
And a rotten smell.