Black Cat Magic
In a land not so far away,
There was a town by the bay.
At the time the townsfolk were worried of witches,
They called them old moldy bitches.
The children did not understand why this was so,
The witches did not seem that low.
They could fly on brooms, and had black cats,
They had big noses and wore pointy hats.
They could fly up and sit on the moon,
They seemed like no goon.
"What was so bad about them?" asked Anne,
She had been interested in them since the hunts began.
From door to door they went,
If they caught a strange woman she was deemed hell-sent.
"This is not fair." Continued she.
"What if next they come for me?"
"Well, I won't be caught guiltless,
"If they take me, I must be a witch!"
So little Anne started a small group of girls,
They would be witches, but not churls.
They would cast spells and fly up high,
They would wear their hats and reach the sky.
They would keep black cats and scare the townsfolk,
They would hold in a cave many a convoke.
They would be thick as thieves until the day they die,
Which would be on the stake being fried.
Sure their parents would worry for them,
That in hell they would be condemned.
"No!" They'd say, proudly holding up their broomsticks,
"We've never done true black magic!
"For we are but mortal children,
"And that we have always been!
"It is true we scare the town and cast spells,
"We are the reason that all the bread smells!
"We apologize for our wrong doings,
"We are sorry for that night when the cows would not stop mooing.
"We are sorry for stealing all of those cats,
"We are sorry for letting loose all the bats.
"So far we have been deemed manic,
"But that's not true.
"All we do is Black Cat Magic."