The Witch I Fear Wore No Under-Weer! Poem by Jim McGill

There was an ole witch
Who had a troublin' twitch
That made her snarl an' bitch
Whenever she had an itch

She would scratch an' scratch for a while
Then crank an' crank in another style
But that only made her snarl an' snarl
And gurgle sounds most vile...vile

She scratched and scratched for days
In many, many different ways
And most suddenly to my amaze
She set her frickin' broom ablaze

The fire in flight twitched to an' fro
She scratched that snatch, setting all aglow
('Cause rubbing heats your seat, you know)
In a shower of sparks she spun high and low

Smoke and fire streaked left and right
A blaze that dazed lit up the night
She screeched and hissed about her plight
Then a thundering boom ended her flight

Where she crashed was quite near
Head first! Her skirt flew up! I saw her rear!
And from where I stood, it was quite clear
The witch I fear, wore no under-weer!


Jim McGill - Oct 29/21