Saturday, October 2, 2010

The Grindly Witch!

                                          Brenda Bryant



The grindly witch sat in the slarve,
Scrawning her splintly schemes,
She cordled her fload
Like a randled poad
And stirred the smilty plemes.
'Oh grindly witch' I grozzled then
'How can you pleft alone?'
Said she 'I'm doomed
To be befloomed
For the Trant turned me into stone!'





Mother! Why do you bother
To make me birthday cakes?
I know how well you plan them,
How long the cooking takes!
A simple bowl of icing
Would have pleased me just as much.
I could splosh it, squeeze it, splatter it,
Thrill to it's plodgy touch!
I could smear it on my fingers
And rub it on my toes,
I could paint my high chair with it
And stick it up my nose!
I could throw it at my Daddy,
I could drop it on the floor,
I could rub it in the kitten's fur
And, oh, a great deal more!
You've spent hours in the kitchen
'Cos you think that I'm the best,
But just give me the icing.
You can eat the rest!


Mary said...

Two very clever poems! Enjoyed them both.

anemonen said...

Like the text and she don´t look so mean the witch. Have a nice weekend.

Dragonstar said...

It looks such a pleasant and sunny place. Much too nice for dooming.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I so love the witchly dialogue......I want to learn that language!!!!! Loved it! And the icing poem is really clever too.

genie said...

My, would I love to have had you in my 6th grade English class. Your poems are great and the picture is so interesting and captivating. I think I would make up a story about her myself Great Job.


Rinkly Rimes said...

Making-up new words is always a fascinating pastime. After all, all words were ne once.