'Come, zoom on my broom!'

      Called a witch to a mole.
'Oh please come and join me

      And leave that dark hole!'

'Oh no!' said the mole.

     'I'm frightened of heights,
But, of course if I weren't,

     Well, perhaps then I might.'

​

'Come, zoom on my broom!'

     Called the witch to a horse,
'But there could be a problem:

     You’re heavy, of course.'

'Ride on your broomstick?'

    He gave a loud neigh:
'Get going old witchy!

      I’m eating my hay.'

​

'Come, zoom on my broom!'

      Called the witch to a hen:
'It’s much better up here

    Than down there in a pen.'

'Cluck cluck,' cried the hen.

      'Oh, we hen’s never fly,
And it’s safer down here

     Than up there in the sky.'

​

'Come, zoom on my broom!'

     Called the witch to a boy.
'A nice ride on my broomstick

    You’d surely enjoy!'

'Ooooh goodee!' said he, 

    And then holding on tight,
Off they both went 

    On that warm summer night. 

​

Copyright on all my poems

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