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Longer Narrative Poems
By Josie Whitehead

Black Cat Silhouette
Black Cat Silhouette
The Power of Magic - Heading .jpg


By Josie Whitehead 

Power of Magic (The)

There was an old woman in a pointed black hat
Who lived in a cottage with a scary, black cat.
     If you knocked on the door and entered, you’d see
     Her fire and her cauldron, as clear as could be.

A more grotesque hag you never would find.
She was hateful, ungrateful and really unkind.
    If you entered her home, you’d have made a mistake,
    For she’d chop you in pieces and eat you as steak.

Good friends in her life? No, not likely for she
Was a witch who was evil as evil could be.
      I won’t take up your time telling frightening tales 
      But must warn you, of course, of her long finger nails.

She’d skin you alive and she’d tear you apart!
She’d strip out your innards including your heart.
    Oh I cannot go on, for I’d cause you some fear,
    But she was a monster, it’s perfectly clear.
One day in her cottage she heard a loud knock,
So she went to her door and she undid the lock.
She knew who it was for she’d looked through her pane:
    Ooooh, a succulent beauty stood there in the rain.

'Oh welcome my dear, won’t you please step inside?
I’ve something to warm you,' she told her with pride.
'You’re cold and you’re wet.   Let me make you a drink,'
     And she filled up her kettle from a tap in the sink.

The beautiful lady, with long, flowing hair,
Seated herself in a worn-out old chair.
   Two cups soon arrived, but what was there inside?
A concoction the witch had brewed up with some pride.

But unknown to this creature, the lovely young maid
Knew well of her plans, but she was not afraid,
    For, believe it or not, she too could cast spells,
For she’d come from the world where kind fairies dwell.

Whilst the witch had been brewing her deadliest brew,
The fairy remembered a spell that she knew.
     She carried a wand in her handbag, you see,

      And she'd cast her own spell just as fast as could be.

The drink that the witch drank was put to the test,
For the ingredients within it were those of the best:
     Compassion and kindness, beauty and youth -
     Well, a wonderful mixture, to tell you the truth.

The fairy knew well not to drink from her cup,
So she waited and watched as the witch drank hers up.
    A potion so powerful works quickly you see,
And the witch said: 'I’m feeling as strange as can be.'

Just like a mask being snatched from her face,
A radiant countenance soon took its place.
    Her dreadful black cloak was quickly replaced
    By a beautiful gown made of satin and lace.

Her tall, pointed hat quickly disappeared too,
And replacing this thing was a ribbon of blue.
The scowling face melted.  She now wore a smile
      And gone was the witch who was grossly hostile.

The cat also changed and he started to purr.
It didn’t look scary, but had silvery fur.
   The cottage changed too, in the blink of an eye,
   And out flew the cauldron far into the sky.

In this village today stands a cottage so clean –
Well, the tidiest, prettiest place that I’ve seen.
     If you knocked on the door, you’d not be afraid,
     For instead of a witch there’s a pretty young maid.

You could enter this cottage without any fear.
If she said: 'A nice cup of my tea for you dear?'

    You can take it from me, that that drink in your cup,
     Is delicious, nutritious and worth drinking up.  

Copyright on all my poems

Black Cat 2
Drawing of Cat
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