The History of the Flying Broomstick

The Broom; the most necessary part of a witch’s outfit. Without a flying broomstick, a witch would not be able to get anywhere (remember, all witches have weak legs).

            But from whence did the flying broomstick come? It all began in the year 1313 when a witch named Thunderella tripped and broke both of her legs. In those days, witch’s were forced to walk everywhere or ride a dragon. As dragons are the most temperamental of all magical beings, the latter option was never wise, and as witch’s legs are weak, the former option was also foolish. How then can a witch travel from place to place?

            Thunderella, being a stupid witch, had no idea and complained to her coven mother, Hellesbane. Hellesbane was significantly smarter than Thunderella and took to studying. Her first idea was to transplant wings to the heels of all witches. This attempt sorely failed after a trial run (witches and wings DO NOT mix). The second and final attempt of Hellesbane proved a better idea, but it was nonetheless discouraged by the magical community (she hoped to enchant humans to carry witches piggyback). Hellesbane might have made another attempt except for the fact that she also tripped and broke her neck and consequently died.

            It was fifty years later that a young witch named Grimmelda stumbled upon the writings of Hellesbane. Intrigued, Grimmelda also started experimenting with witch transportation. One day, as she was carrying a book to her library she tripped over her broom. Angry, she cursed the broom to fly away and leave her alone. Immediately, the broom zoomed away of its own accord. Grimmelda flew into a happy frenzy at the discovery, and the next day enchanted a broomstick to fly. After two years of different enchantments, more broomsticks and twenty-seven broken noses, Grimmelda successfully marketed flying broomsticks. Now in the flying broomstick’s 650^th anniversary, we hope to honor the hard work of Hellesbane and Grimmelda by displaying the first flying broom at the Toadspike Museum (open mon-thu, 6am-midnight. Tickets are three thousand mushbusks each).

           

Even More Poetry

Recently I got three of my poems published in an anthology for young poets. Unfortunately, one of those poems is not on the computer, but I will get it on here soon. 

Pie

Pickle Pie and Egg Yolk Pie

And pie for grumbly men

Pansy pie and Chess-piece pie

And pie for a little wren

Wishy pie and washy pie

And pie that’s made with a penny

All this pie sounds really good

But I think I won’t have any.

Charles Dickens Rap

On February seventh

At the earliest chimes

A child was born

During very Hard Times

His name was Charles Dickens

And his father was a louse

He had a couple siblings

And he lived in a Bleak House

He worked at a factory

And it wasn’t fun

Who owned it? Who knows

Maybe Dombey and Son.

He loved a good lady

But their love had to end

Too bad, it’s sad

They had many a Mutual Friend

He soon became a clerk

And it was not the tops

He maybe could have worked

In a Curious Shop

He wrote a fun book

And in poured the dimes!

and the quarters and nickels

and he heard fortune’s Chimes!

He went to  America

He didn’t like it, what a pity

From London to New York

It’s A Tale of Two Cities!

And his love for his wife

Began to desist

For his life this was a sad

And an ‘Oliver’ Twist

He wrote Little Dorrit

And A Christmas Carol

But illness in him

Put his life in peril

He died.

He ‘d been a famous author

And went to many nations

But all he had for himself

Were many  Great Expectations.