Once upon a lost fairy tale
A witch was feeling not so well;
She had tried a healing spell
With no difference, she could tell.
The witch was feeling worse and worse
She wondered if this was a curse;
There was no money for a nurse...
A werewolf stole her money purse.
She was too weak to ride her broom
It sat meekly in a spare room;
Her house was feeling like a tomb...
The witch felt that she might be doomed.
But then came rapping on her door
'Twas Merlin of Camelot lore;
A healing potion he did pour...
She drank it down and asked for more!
Merlin healed the witch that fine day
Said goodbye and was on his way;
Upon her broom she again played...
A healthy, happy witch she stayed!