She wore a long skirt down to her ankles
I don’t recall her wearing shoes
She spoke of some man who loved a seagull
I had a parakeet named Spot
She kept hard candies in small crystal bowls
Offering me one everyday
When I tasted it, I cringed on green peas
No.. the taste was just like broccoli
She spoke of a green witch near New York City
Where the drummer’s beat was different
I thought of my next Halloween costume
As a witch I would be in black
She made tea from bark and leaves off of trees
Mama called her a flower child
And, said I shouldn’t eat or drink with her
I thought of my own tea party
To me she was just a strange old lady
Who was kind of weird and stuff
Folks said she’s a barren hippie
I thought she was from Chicago
@2008 Scarlets Rhymes - The above and all poetry and pictures on this site cannot be reproduced onto the World Wide Web or any other published form without the written permission of the writer/creator at scarlet@rhymecreek.com
I don’t recall her wearing shoes
She spoke of some man who loved a seagull
I had a parakeet named Spot
She kept hard candies in small crystal bowls
Offering me one everyday
When I tasted it, I cringed on green peas
No.. the taste was just like broccoli
She spoke of a green witch near New York City
Where the drummer’s beat was different
I thought of my next Halloween costume
As a witch I would be in black
She made tea from bark and leaves off of trees
Mama called her a flower child
And, said I shouldn’t eat or drink with her
I thought of my own tea party
To me she was just a strange old lady
Who was kind of weird and stuff
Folks said she’s a barren hippie
I thought she was from Chicago
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