The Hag Next Door

The hag next door let out a cry of joy
For never had she seen a little boy
Standing unknowingly at her door
(He must have seen her pet wild boar.)
“Why come you’ve here, you dear kid?
Haven’t you seen my giant squid?
(All the dangers you may see now,
Escape you will- Though I don’t know how.)”
The boy stood, confusion in his eye.
“My mother told me never to lie.
So I’ll tell you why I am here:
My father- He drank a lot of beer.
He is drunk and in bed for three whole days,
And my mother is considering different ways.”
The hag smiled her usual wicked smile,
Raised a finger to her chin and thought awhile.
Enlightened, then she let out a cry-
One that could make an ostrich fly.
“Child, come inside, and I shall tell you
What you should tell your mother to do.”
In went the child, after the old hag,
Holding behind his back a secret bag.
“Sit down and I shall make you tea,
and come back, and then we shall see
Of what we can do about your dad,
And prevent your mother from getting too mad.”
The child nodded and sat down in a chair,
Thinking if the witch really did care.
“The fool knows not one single bit
That blow him I shall in as many a hit,
For poison, I will, his cup of brew,
And my dream meal will finally come true!”
She laughed away in abandoned glee,
And plucked from her pantry, poisoned tea.
She placed it in water and heated it well.
Ten minutes later, she heard the timer’s bell.
She whopped and she cheered, and danced around,
The ceiling shook, as did the ground.
The child, meanwhile, was still awake
And wondering if anything he could take.
He looked twice at the golden wall-clock,
And once at the platinum door-lock.
‘I must take those home,’ he thought,
But also about the consequences, if brought.
‘Father could get even more drunk,
And mother would marry the village punk.
And I will be left at home, all alone-
The severity of which I cannot condone.’
The boy opened his bag and stole a peek,
And knew at once what its contents would seek.
He smiled resolutely and calmly sat back,
A smug look on his face and a hand on his sack.
The smell of tea reached his sharp nose,
And he even caught a little whiff of rose.
“Dear child, your tea is now ready,”
Said the witch, whose steps were very unsteady.
A large tray she held, on which were cups and a kettle-
The porcelain beauties were probably just metal.
The child knew now that there was a glitch
In the evil plan, whose thinker was the witch.
Silently he extracted from his little bag
The weapon that would defeat the old hag.
A piece, it was, of sweet candy,
With a spot of over-fermented brandy,
Which made it very deadly to eat,
Regardless of however enticing and sweet
It may appear to the untrained tongue.
The candy would affect one’s left lung,
And deflate it like a hot-air balloon
Being brutally struck by a sharp harpoon.
“Eat, dear lady, I’m sure you’ll like this much,
For my father, my mother had added a special touch.”
He held out to the witch the deadly thing
That was dreaded even by the World’s King.
“Oh no, you fool, you know me not.
As much as my mother always taught,
I was always fond of every one
Of those sweet little chocolate bonbons,
And sweets, I loved, and anything aesthetic,
And now, my dear, I am diabetic.
So proceed and the tea to the dregs, drink,
And after that, may you think.”
The child shrugged and took a sip,
And permitted his tentative tongue another dip
In the tea that seemed so nice and hot.
However could he have even thought
This nice lady was capable of giving
Something to him to end his living?
“Thank you very much, and now I’ll go,
For otherwise mother will my head, mow.”
And the child then skipped down the path,
Until he was out of sight, but healthy at that.
The witch wondered, shrugged, and went back in,
Only to find that in the interim
Of the child’s drinking, he had forgotten
To take with him the candy he brought in.
She looked around cautiously, twice,
And glared at the idly passing mice.
Then she picked up the candy and popped it in
Her mouth, and then completely within.
She smiled, and smiled, and her face turned red,
And all that night in her house, the hag lay dead.