I really think my wife’s a witch,

for why, I’m sure I must begin

in pointing out the obvious;

the boil upon her bristly chin!

Then, when the moon shines brightly

and she ups to leave the room,

I find that she has gone and left

with our black cat and kitchen broom!

She’s started eating bugs and things

delights in foods that I would not,

all stirred up with a wooden spoon

in a giant metal cooking pot!

I thought at least that I’d be safe

when walking with the dogs,

but when my beloved came along

they barked like croaking frogs!

Her woollen hat’s evolved a point

from bobbly top to heady heights.

She’s started talking in her sleep,

reciting scary pagan writes!

So, when you see your balmy wife

is waving twigs to style a spell,

take my advice, pack your bag,

… and run like merry hell!