THE WITCH’S
CAT
"My magic is dead", said the witch. "I’m astounded
That people can fly to the moon and around it.
It used to be mine and the
cat’s till they found it.
My broomstick is draughty, I snivel with cold
As I ride to the stars. I’m painfully old,
And so is my cat;
But planet-and-space-ship
Rocket or race-ship
Never shall part me from that"
She wrote an advertisement, "Witch in a fix
Willing
to part with the whole bag of tricks,
Going cheap at the price at eighteen and six".
But no one was ready to
empty the coffers
For out of date rubbish, there weren’t any offers –
Except for the cat.
"
But planet-and-space-ship
Rocket or race-ship
Never shall part me from that".
The tears trickled fast, not a sentence she spoke
As she stamped on her broom and the brittle stick broke.
And
she dumped in a dustbin her hat and her cloak,
Then clean disappeared, leaving no prints;
And no one at all has set eyes on her since
Or her tired old cat.
But planet-and–space-ship
Rocket or race-ship
Never shall part her from that!
~Ian Serraillier~
