The Witch's Brew

Add a little of this and a little of that, the recipe’s not specific,

Whatever you chose to add to the brew,

Will certainly be terrific.

A witch’s brew in a caldron boils at a temperature all its own,

The goddess is in control you see,

The results are quite unknown.

Hour after hour it simmers, and stews, crackling over the fire,

Giving off a hideous smell,

All secret potions require.

The aged crone stirs the broth, with the thigh bone of an ass,

Whispering spells under her breath,

Several days must pass.

Light colored candles, draw a circle, a pagan rite to commence,

Dancing naked by the fire,

The celebration immense.

The witch’s brew is finally done, boiled to perfection,

Take a swig, a gulp, or more

And alter your perception.  

Ken Ferguson