There is a magic broomstick
Upon which witches ride,
On dark and spooky windy nights
Up into the air it glides.
Soaring over trees and hills
It travels far and wide
The magic cat sits on the back
His black face a grin from side to side.
Mr.Moon peeps through the clouds
As they scud across the sky
He provides light and guidance through the night
As the magic broomstick whizzes by.
The witches cackle as they ride,
They don’t mean any harm,
In pointed hats and long black cloaks
They drop a good luck charm.
So if you look up into the sky
On a dark October night
You’ll most likely see the broomstick
And the witches magic light.
The magic broomstick casts good spells
On children everywhere
Then in a puff of magic smoke
The broomstick vanishes into thin air.
Written by Barbara Brewin ©