The Witch Of Willow Vale Poem by David Lewis Paget

‘There's a crafty witch in Willow Vale
Putting spells on all the men,
She lures them out with a lurid tale
Of what they might miss, and then…
She chews them up and she spits them out
And they go home looking pale,
She just wants to prove to fretful wives
That she governs all things male.'

Pamela stood in the door and paused
And she looked direct at me,
‘If you should fall for her witches charms
You can go, I'll set you free!
I'll not take seconds from lovesick men
Who come when the witch is through,
You'll not come in through my door again,
That's right, I'm looking at you! '

So I threw my hands up in the air
And I said, ‘Why pick on me?
Have I so much looked at a scheming witch
When she's up to her deviltry? '
‘That may be true but your time is due
You're the last one in the Glen,
She'll get to you when she sees you're new
For a perfect score of ten.'

‘I promise Pamela, I'll be true, '
But she said to call it quits,
‘An easy promise that you can't keep
Is a lie upon your lips.'
Then I got mad and I said I'd had
Being judged up front, was lame,
I said I'd travel to Willow Vale
Play the witch at her own game.

‘Well just remember that if you do
A touch is all it will take,
A simple kiss that will bring you bliss
That would be your first mistake.
Don't think you might get away with it
For I have my little spies,
I even know how the spell will grow
If you look deep into her eyes.'

So I set off for the witch's haunt
In a cottage, in the vale,
And hearing Pamela's final taunt
‘You won't live to tell the tale! '
I pursed my lips, and gritted my teeth
As I knocked on the witch's door,
It swung out wide, to show her sat
By a cauldron on the floor.

She didn't even look up at me
She was sorcering a spell,
Dropping roots in the cauldron there
And muttering as they fell,
Her hair fell over her shoulders and
Her face was in the shade,
And then she stopped and she looked at me
‘Did you come here to get laid? '

I blushed and stammered and caught my breath,
This wasn't going well,
My blood was running as cold as death
As I fell beneath her spell.
She'd painted her lips and eyelids black
And her fingernails like claws,
She said, ‘I'm ready to claw your back
You need only say, ‘I'm yours! ''

Her dress she slid up above her knees
To reveal her silken thighs,
Her bodice open, she leaned right back
And I had to shut my eyes.
‘I came to tell you you're not for me,
That you weave your spells in vain,
I have a love that is true, you see
I don't need to play your game.'

She bounded up to her feet and cried
‘A kiss for a lonely witch!
I'm only asking a single kiss,
What could be wrong with this? '
I shook my head and I turned to go,
And I reached for the cottage door,
Then the wig came off and I heard her laugh,
And there lay Pam, on the floor!

29 January 2015