Poetry

Mandrake

On the surface it holds up clumps of happy green,

and underneath the ground

the roots curl up snug, content and safe from everything.

 

Yet soon people come with spades and forks

to disturb its peaceful slumber

and dig it up without any thought.

 

So the mandrake bawls

when all the soil is brushed away from its face,

wondering why it couldn’t be left alone

for the rest of its days.

 

But the people have heard its bulbous roots

are more than what they seem,

and seek to use it as an ingredient

for all the medicines that they need.

 

So many little mandrakes

have suffered the same fate

that now they have learnt to vanish

from gardens and allotments without a trace.

Poetry

The Switch

There was once a young witch,

who suffered with a twitch,

and, though tragic,

it affected her magic.

 

One day she cast a spell

in order to help her sell

her newest healing potions

and soothing skin lotions.

 

Then she felt a slight itch–

oh, no, the beginning of the twitch!

 

BANG! The spell went wrong

and she ended up in a throng

of market-goers looking

for simple ways of cooking.

 

Everyone pushed and shoved;

the witch felt a tug.

 

Someone tried to steal her magic

but it let off such static

that thief and witch

felt their bodies switch.

 

So witch became thief

with missing teeth,

and thief became witch,

taking on her twitch.

 

Now they have to work together,

or they’ll be stuck that way forever!