My other car’s a broom!
You should see me fly … zoom!
Witches in ditches
have all sorts of itches.
They laugh in pitches …
grant gaggles of wishes
as they stir up bat goo.

Witches hats make a point
as their cats they anoint!
There’s no denying—
witches may flunk flying
and are quite trying …
some are pink; others blue.

I’m no fly by night clown
but I still get around.
In teams gather, flock--
noses hooked, knees that knock,
naval bases blocked.
Mischief they mix, construe .

Witches age very well
or cast beauteous spells.
They wave their wands, dust,
before the ‘bunnies’ crust.
They’ve got a weird touch.
You make me witchy … do.

My other car’s a broom
and I can’t wait to ZOOM!