On a hill far away

The witch takes her nightly task

To summon her spell book at dusk

She's making a portion

In her house

That stands upon on a shady

Sandy eerie foggy hill

In goes the tail of a dragon

With a dash of a pinch of

A spider's web

& an eye of a golden eagle.

The lightest feather from

A laying hen.

She throws a baby's

First laugh into the cauldron,

And a frog's croak too.

Then she adds a part of a twig

Later, a mix of crushed ol' dying

Brown oak leaves.

A few extra rusted iron nails

Mix of crushed berries:

Strawberries, blueberries

Even blackberries

For a different kick

To this unusual concoction

She gives it a short while

For all the ingredients

To fully react

To form something new

with a soft poof

She knows it's ready

Into a tiny bottle

All the juice goes

She places a label

It's a new brand of:

Cough Syrup

For her sneezing dear chap

Her sweet loving dog

Quite sick

Under the broomstick

Watching his Mummy

Prepare medicine for him

What a lucky lil fella.