Poem © 2017 Janet Foxley
Illustration © 2017 Eric Heyman
Out of my way, I really must fly, My cauldron’s boiled over and ruined my pie. Guests are invited for Halloween treats, I’m now in a hurry to buy them more eats. Grubs for gridling, toads for toasting, bats for baking, rats for roasting. |
My cauldron’s boiled over and ruined my pie.
Guests are invited for Halloween treats,
I’m now in a hurry to buy them more eats.
Grubs for gridling,
toads for toasting,
bats for baking,
rats for roasting.
Out of my way, I must dash home to cook
Gristle-Grease Pie from my recipe book.
I’ve got to get chopping and stirring and grilling
to make its delicious and magical filling.
Frogs for frying,
slugs for spicing,
mice for mincing,
eyes for icing.
The party is over, the guests have gone home
and I’m left with the washing-up all on my own.
They hated my pie. Now who’d have guessed that?
But they loved the fish fingers I’d bought for my cat.