HOW TO BECOME A WITCH: A POEM

Once upon a time in the happy month of May,
All seemed right with the world, just as it would any other day.

Bills were never delinquent, Food was on the table,
And I was with the love of my life.
Yes, everything seemed good…
Everlasting…
Quite stable.

Then, one day without warning,
It all fell apart.
People stopped buying my products, I only ate dehydrated noodles,
And my true love left me for a cock-eyed fart…

…Named Bart…

…Or perhaps it was Hobart.
Oh, what does it matter?
My life as I knew it went up in flames,
And like a mirror it did shatter.

Then, one day the answer came to me,
How I would fix my situation.
I gathered my inhibitions and went to the local new age shop,
And did something bold without reservation.

I looked around…
…And around…
…and then looked some more.
I meant to merely clear my aura and find inner peace,
But, dang! Why didn’t I see it before?

There it was,
With burlap cover and leather stitch.
A book appropriately entitled,
HOW TO BECOME A WITCH.

So I brought the book,
With my very last dime.
Took it home,
And then I took my sweet time.

Reading about moon phases, healing crystals and candles,
Everything a potential spell caster should know.
Waning and waxing, stars and moons,
And even which plants and flowers to grow.

After two months, I had everything down,
From the athame to the tarot and even the rieded broom.
Now, on to fix my troubled life,
And not a moment too soon.

I picked bunches of heather and cloves,
To protect me from all the evil.
Then, I stopped, second-guessing myself,
And wondered if what I was doing was of the devil.

Then another question popped up,
In my already-troubled mind.
How do I explain to my loved ones I am a witch,
And how do I show them my intentions are reasonable, just and kind?

Let’s see, the plants will be a given,
Because it’s spring, which is obvious and quite clear.
And I can also tell Mom and Aunt Sylvia I’ve taken up candle-making,
And have done it for nearly a year.

Now, as for the crystals laying everywhere,
That one’s quite easy.
I’ll tell my brother his girlfriend maxed out all his credit cards to purchase them.
It’s no secret she’s quite sleazy.

But how do I explain this one, oh, dear friends?
For some nights I hold moonlit rituals in the nude.
Grandpa just laughs and thinks I dabbled in his moonshine,
And Grandma thinks my actions are quite uncouth and downright crude.

So, I guess there’s one thing
I will surely have to do,
And if you want,
I can do them just for you.

Having trouble with a neighbor,
Or perhaps longing for a dapper husband, or a debutante of a wife?
Just make a wish,
And I will bring it all to life.

With the wave of my hands on the night of the new moon,
And as I dance a mystic jig.
I can make Self-centered Susie grow a wart,
Make Jitterbugging Julia grow hair on her knuckles,
And can even make bald-headed Bertie don a wig.

But until then,
I will let them poke fun at me.
A girl who’s just like you,
Who merely wanted to be set free.

However, be warned, these foolish mortals,
Of this one simple rule of three.
What you do to the witch,
Look out! It may come back to you threefold,
So mote it be!