In a dreamy land
Deep in the woods
Small, Dark cottage
Strange and funky
Was the abode of a spirited, crazy old dame

As weird as she was,
Gobbled up crispy hot porridge,
Each day dressed up like no other
And Danced her way to the treeline

So alive was she
Lethargy may be, was not in her dictionary
No one could espy if she was really old
or Just had put up a clumsy mask

At nights,
Fireflies were the entertainment

But Alas!
With a flick of fingers,
they were all bottled up,
heated up

To Be Eaten With The Porridge The Following Morning

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