“Helda, The Unwicked Witch”

One Halloween, I met a woman,
Her suit was black, her nose was pointed.
She had a mole, upon her face,
And flew her broom, from place to place.
The Broom would come, when it was called,
And they were feared, both one and all.
She made her potions, cast her spells,
And talked to demons, straight from hell.

She had a cat, who’s name was Thrill,
Who went around, and did her will.
His fur was black, as dark as night,
From just a look, you’d get a fright.
We all had thought, that she was mean,
Yet, sometimes things aren’t what they seem.
This Halloween, while in her flight,
The broom it fell, out of the night.

She crashed real hard and bumped her head,
At first I thought, the witch was dead.
I picked her up and brought her home,
And then we were, all alone.
She opened her eyes, and shook her head,
At that point, I thought I was dead.
Her hair was dark, her eyes were blue,
She had a pointed hat on too.

She opened her mouth, and began to speak,
And that is when, my knees went weak.
She said “My name’s Helda and I’m not bad,
Probably the unwickedest witch, they ever had.”
“I don’t turn people into frogs,
I don’t even own, a werewolf dog.
I don’t make “no” Warlock Soup,
And on my broom, do Loop De Loops.”

She thanked me for her nightly stay,
And then she went about her way.
So please believe, my story’s true,
She’s not that different, from me and you.
So, when you’re out on Halloween,
Beneath the moon’s deep golden gleam.
And you see a streak, across the sky,
Just remember Helda, and wave Goodbye!!!