There once was a house, off in the hills,
In there lived a crone who loved to cause ills.
The old hag cried aloud: "Soon they will see!!"
While she stirred a pot and cackled with glee.
She used spells and poisons, frogs and curses,
Lemons and catnip and alligator purses!
She seemingly used what she had on hand,
Even pork and beans! Both fresh and canned..
She uttered some nonsense and maybe a noun,
Then at that moment her door was kicked down!
Heroes from all over! Both brave and bold!
All gallant and strong! Or.. So we are told..
They hauled her off for a trial in the city,
This cackling hag, this wizen old biddy.
Ten years, less a day! For all that's malign.
She was sentenced for the act of brewing ... moonshine!?
Back at her house, it was all but a mess,
The pot was overturned and empty no less!