Under The Witch's Hat



Under the witch’s hat,
Nesting in greasy hair,
Dwelt sixty cooties that
Really liked living there.


They drove the witch berzerk,
The way they’d nip and bite,
Keeping her from her work,
Her broom a forlorn sight.


Hands always occupied,
Fingers scratching away.
No matter how she tried,
She itched both night and day.


With five dozen itches
Impossible to scratch,
This saddest of witches,
Finally struck a match.


She set her head ablaze,
Wildly dancing about.
The cooties were amazed,
And clamored to get out.


Bald is that witch today,
Scars covering her head;
But she likes it that way –
It beats itching, instead.



© By RickMack (rmrickmack@aol.com)









Under The Witch's Hat


Under the witches hat was a brain of an opportunist, yes indeed.
For better transportation she longed for and felt the need.


She brainstormed night and day about a better broom;
One that had some real "vroom" "vroom".


On a night dark and drear, she was slowly making her way through the sky;
When all of a sudden, a black Hummer caught her eye.


Why not, she thought, why not get into the modern way of things.
A little luxury for a witch a lot of happiness could bring.


Down she swooped onto the dealership lot, landing near her prize.
No one was looking, anyway they would just think she was in Halloween disguise.


A salesman finally spotted her looking rather suspicious in her garb of black.
He approached her, and she turned her back.


Out of a little sack she took a potion of "freeze in your tracks".
It is just one of those items a witch thinks to carry in her pack.


Soon she was cruising down the highway on her way to the haunted house.
The salesman was going through the lot in the form of a little mouse.


The guys on the lot couldn't figure out where he went.
They figured he stole the Hummer, and on finding him they were bent.


So, if you see a black Hummer on Halloween night,
She will be at the wheel to give you a "fright".



© By Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@msn.com)











Under The Witch's Hat


Ha ha, I will be dang, no witch’s hat does she need,
For a hag, crone, witch and mean old pregnant dog,
They are nice references to that woman,
Who thinks the last day of October is
For the puny ones.


Yep, no hat does she need,
With a nose like a hawk,
And three big warts on her face.


Those dark green eyes and bushy brows
They make you shiver anyhow.
But shucks, when she wants to be,
That old bit . . ., er witch is nice as can be.


People tell me and have for a while,
That if you want to see your wife when she grows old,
Just at her mother look and there is a 99% chance
That is how she will act.


Met this lady in the desert, we were both
For an oasis looking.
We fell in love and four days later,
In old Juarez we did get married.


Never her mother saw,
Until we had five children of our own.
Then one day she came to visit,
Moved right in and took over.


Thing went from great to bad,
Then from bad to worse than hell.
So I got real drunk,
And drove into a police car.


Ninety days I did get,
But that old woman was still there.
So now, you know what?
I am going to buy her that witch’s hat.
Also going to buy her a broom and a black cape
And whatever else with the money I have.


Going to give it to her and then I think,
I will shoot that witch and boil her down.
Cause you know what?
My wife is beginning to cackle and
Look like her mother.



© By Tom (TOMWYO@aol.com)











Tongue In Cheek




There's a secret to that formless blob,
With a point silhouetted in the circle of the moon,
Imagination of humans running wild,
She's coming at us like a stalking baboon.


I know the legend of that hat on top,
For it happened that old Tom Foolery,
Got a little looped on Irish Whiskey one night,
And someone got all his jew-el-ry.


Because by chance, it was Hallow'een,
He thought he'd save his magnificent pride,
He'd put on a dress, play like a maid,
With a broom and a funnel he'd ride.


Old Tom never reckoned with the light of the moon,
Made him look like he's flying up high,
He scared all the children and grown ups, too.
With a cat, he was anti-santa, near to die.


Well, I guess the secret you know by now,
I trust none of you will ever tell,
Under that witches hat lies a balding head.
The witch is a man who's grace fell.



© By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)












Under The Witch's Hat


Underneath the Witch's hat
Dwells a soft and furry bat.
He helps keep her hair in place
And freshens the make up on her face.


In the winter keeps her head from freezing.
She finds his presence really pleasing.
Of her bat she will boast;
"Little devil keeps me warm as toast."


The Witch and the bat get along very well.
He's thrilled to have a place to dwell.
His rent is cheap, it's nearly free.
And she likes the idea of a bat in her belfry.



© By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)








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I saw this witch hanging in a shop window and couldn't resist taking a picture. lol