Look at me, no hands! Said Witchy Randing.
She could ride a broom while standing.
The other witches did not dare to try.
Watching her zoom high up into the sky.
Her familiars were holding on mighty tight
A crow, an owl, and a smug cat, all white.
Witchy Randing held her arms up tall and wide
Feeling mystically powerful all inside
she felt as if she was one with the wind
confident flying fish, prettily finned
the crow gave a caw, the owl threw out a hoot
cat snorted and gave off a dainty feminine toot
Look at me! No hands! She yelled to the sky
Silver stars smiled with nary a try
She rode her broom to another planet serene
The last time the four of them were ever seen.
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