She ploughed through the sky,
With her 1.8 engine broom,
And put her foot down and screamed ‘oh my! ’
A nitrogen tank was fitted for that extra zoom.
The bristles customised to suit her mood,
An ipod docking bay – she could play her tunes,
A small compartment for her food,
The stereo player how loud they boomed!
A designer chair for her bum,
A stylish cup holder for her rum,
Leather hand holds for added grip,
The heated chair for an icy trip.
A sat nav installed – she never got lost,
Carbon fibre handle bars it weighed an ounce,
A Dixie horn fitted now who’s boss?
Through the sky how she would flounce.
She had taken it to the boys down town,
And had her broom pimped.
© Michael Moorcroft August 12th 2009
Michael Moorcroft
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-witches-broom/
