A witch with a broomstick was learning to fly
And her broomstick instructor was starting to sigh:
“Just point up to heaven and head for that star!
A broomstick’s much easier than driving a car.”
“I’ll be late for my party. It starts promptly at eight.
They’re expecting me then and I mustn’t be late.”
The instructor then thought: “How very absurd.
Most witches can fly through the air like a bird.”
He said: “Tell me, my dear, but what word did you use?
There’s a choice, as you know, so which one did you choose?”
The witch was embarrassed; her face went quite red.
“I’m not good at remembering words,” she then said.
Her instructor got angry and gave a big sigh:
“So how did you think you would fly through the sky?”
He asked her politely which word she preferred:
“Now don’t forget that one! It’s your special word.”
“Oh thank you so much,” cried the witch with delight.
She shouted the word and her broomstick took flight.
Through the sky to the stars went the broomstick on track,
But the word meant “one-way” so she’ll never come back.
Copyright on my poems
and these illustrations
Or will she? Before you go to the next page, I'd like you to try to think how she could get her broomstick to return, and then see if your imagination is as good as mine. Yours is probably much better as you are younger than I am. . . . . . . . . .
These wonderful illustrations were done by Luis Peres, children's fantasy artist who loves my poems, so he often tells me, as much as I love his work. I hope you do also.