A poem I wrote, partly inspired by my trip to Stratford Upon Avon and thinking of Macbeth’s witches sitting round their cauldron. By contrast though, this sorceress is resolutely good, for she is brewing a potion to drive evil away.
Now discord creeps into the land
The time for action is at hand.
For all the people kind and true,
I shall concoct a magic brew.
One drop of this and in a blink,
The realm is rid of evil’s stink.
The cauldron’s hot, so in it goes!
I’ll boil it up, but hold your nose!
Put in three drops of the stink-fruit juice,
The week-old bile of a barnacle goose,
The ground-up root of some upas trees,
A mix of mugwort and sun-dried fleas,
A peacock’s tongue and locusts three,
A jellyfish from the farthest sea,
Ten types of fungus from forest deep,
Then fifteen worms that slither and creep,
A bottle full of slugs in brine,
A cup or two of rosehip wine,
A bowl of moths in turpentine,
Stir sixty times… it’s doing fine!
It’s nearly ready, so prepare!
Let demons linger if they dare!
What’s going to happen? I can’t tell.
But I’m sure this will give ‘em Hell!
Will they go poof, or be shrunk down?
Will they go shooting out of town?
Whatever happens, this foul potion
Will cause a wild and grand commotion.
Oh evil, run! Your days are through!
Your end has come with this vile brew!
So bubble cauldron, fire burn,
Let discord flee and peace return!