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Up on their brooms the Witches stream,
Crooked and black in the crescent’s gleam;
One foot high, and one foot low,
Bearded, cloaked, and cowled, they go,
‘Neath Charlie’s Wain they twitter and tweet,
And away they swarm ‘neath the Dragon’s feet,
With a whoop and a flutter they swing and sway,
And surge pell-mell down the Milky Way.
Betwixt the legs of the glittering Chair
They hover and squeak in the empty air.
Then round they swoop past the glimmering Lion
To where Sirius barks behind huge Orion;
Up, then, and over to wheel amain,
Under the silver, and home again.

Walter de la mer.

Asha now also knows witch witchWitch, Witch

Witch witch, where do you fly?
Under the clouds and over the sky.

Witch, witch, what do you eat?
Little black apples from Hurricane Street.

Witch, witch, what do you drink?
Vinegar and good red ink.

Witch, witch, where do you sleep?
Up in the clouds where the pillows are cheap.

And the french one… C’est une sorciere

which i will type the words in sometime to…

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