This is a tale most frightening and unholy, A tale of scared girls in face-paint and curls, A tale of little boys with capes and sword toys, A tale of hobgoblins, of black cats crossing the road, A tale of spells, elixirs, and warty toads, Of twisted vines and spiderwebs gnarly. Yes! A tale most frightening and unholy. But, where to begin, to begin this spin? Ahhh, well. It all began with the wisps in the wind. As the harvest moon lingered in the October sky, And the owls screeched in the knotty trees, The church bells rang as the mourners sang. Lightning crackled in the morbid night air. Something twisted was afoot, bristling the hair Of the dogs, howling like the end was near, And every heart in the valley was gripped by fear. Yes, that was how it all began. That, and the wisps in the wind. Bru Ella brushed her hair at the Victorian vanity, Her mother’s red lipstick was traced quite fancy A bit bright and smudged, but pretty nonetheless, And her mascara eyes were dressed in a Goth-girl mess. She wore socks with stripes and ankle boots, Layers of black velvet, black lace and tulle With a corset of red and monogrammed spades, A felt top hat that shaded her Goth face, A mischievous snark, but oh, just a hint, as she waived her twisted wand like a wisp in the wind. Tonight she would ride, yes, perhaps quite high! Tonight! As the moon was full in the sky, Tonight, she would do what she tried each Halloween. Tonight, she would be a moonlight queen, Fly a broom named Gertie, of straw from the barn loft. She would tilt her hat sideways and then she’d fly off Into the darkness, the nothingness, the black of blackness. Mistress Bru Ella, the mystical empress, the black cat’s friend! Tonight she would be a wisp in the wind. At the stroke of midnight on that All Hallowed Eve The shutters opened with a crash, back-and-forth they lashed Upon Gertie she did light, zipping into the dark of night. She laughed to cause such a fright if anyone would see the sight. She held up a pumpkin, took a bite, as a clasp of thunder bristled the field rye, She chanted, “Ooo-li-li-Tu-tum, I’ll get that boy! Ooo-li-li-lum-lum, and all his toys!” And she flew to Billy’s house, her intent to destroy His cape and sword and all his stuffed animal friends With a wave of her wand and a wisp in the wind. For you see, Billy Bob Bilbo was a jokester, a prankster, a mischievous lot, And he had vexed her, really messed with her, often depressing her. At school she had had enough, around town she had taken far too much, And it was time to exact her revenge on that bad Billy boy! She never liked pirates, anyway, or their swashbuckling swords Or their dirty boy-boots or puffy-sleeve shirts or eye patches. She was a moonlight queen, and pirates were no matches, And she had never liked the way he growled, “Aaarrrgh!” at everything. So she would silence him with a wisp in the wind. At his window she did light and stared through the yellow glass, But no Billy was there—not in the bed, not in the chair. “Ooo-li-li-tu-tum, where has that bad Billy boy gone?” She muttered, but could not see Because Billy Bob Bilbo was climbing a nearby chestnut tree, And he tried to sneak, but the rustle of the dry leaves And his heavy breath and heaves Caused Mistress Bru Ella to turn about and cast her dark spell, and in a flash it befell Billy Bob Bilbo, who became a croaking toad, sitting on a knotty limb. She grabbed him and bagged him, then flew away like a wisp in the wind. She returned to her room on broom in a zoom with that bad Billy boy in a brown burlap bag, Put a purple tuffet shaped like a purple muffin, in the corner by the purple bureau, near the purple-pink window. Laughing out loud, she declared, “Billy Bob Bilbo, now you’re all mine!” And he croaked in the bag the whole froggy time! What had he done, you ask? Well, it is a bit uncertain, but rumors say he called her dress a curtain, Of course, he was just blurting not flirting, but his words were hurting So she devised a plan to make him a toad-man on a purple tuffet stand It was a devious plan! So incredulous and devious! Not at all like her previous To stick porcupine twills in his corduroy britches ‘til he howled and squealed From that stickery-stick-stick feel. No, this time she would win With a toady-toad hex and a wisp in the wind. She made bad Billy sit like that All Hallowed Eve, and the next day and the next day with no reprieve He was just croaking like a poor, pitiful pirate-toad in her purple painted parlor Insane it was, and most incredible, to see a toad on a tuffet in the corner But there she kept Billy Bob Bilbo for almost a week, feeding him flies dipped in peat And she would zap him with her zappity-zap wand if he dared to snort or tweet So, he was her prisoner! Mistress Bru Ella of the dark night! A trophy in her lair, But nasty plans, dastardly plans, don’t ever dastardly last, neither here nor there, And one day as she visited town toady Billy Bob Bilbo jumped off his tuffet. He had had enough toadiness, so much croaking and toady tones, and he leaped his way all the way along the way home When he got to his home, his mother opened the door, and there she saw Billy Bob Bilbo, very toady, on the front porch and she smiled and exclaimed, “Well, what do we have here?” And he croaked, and he danced, and she smiled and she drew him near. “So sweet!” She said. “A toad with charm and cheer!” Then she kissed his toady face and with a wisp in the wind, Billy Bob Bilbo became Billy Bob Bilbo again, right there on his front porch for the whole world to see. And the moral of this story is very simple, you see. Little witches may have hexes that will get the best of you, But a mama’s love is stronger than any witches hex, or two, And when love is shown, even lowly toads can go free again. Because a mama’s kiss is a wisp in the wind.
Academy of the Heart And Mind 