The Cheerful Witch and the Naughty Imp –
Made for Greater Things!
Final:
Page 1:
There once was a witch as cute as can be.
She lived in a house close to the sea.
She would not even hurt a fly;
happy things would make her cry.
So full of joy; a heart of gold this little witch was kind and bold.
Her best-friend, a cat – black and white not even with mice would he pick a fight.
Page 2:
She had the very special task
of catching stars that fell.
She loved her life and did her best
to always live it well.
From the stars that she’d collect
a magic-potion brewed.
She had a special name for it,
simply called ‘dream food’.
Page 3:
Every night she’d fly quite high
across the moon and starlit sky,
then over the houses of the town
she’d throw her magic potion down.
Like glitter it floated to children asleep,
helping them to dream real deep.
Page 4:
Girls dreamed of flowers and ponies and things.
Boys dreamed of rockets and dragons with wings.
And they’d awake, the very next day,
with so much happy stuff to say!
Page 5:
At dawn one day a star did fall
not too far from her house at all.
As the sun rose she made her way,
to the forest where the little star lay.
To her surprise it was not a star.
It was an Imp, and from home he was far.
Page 6:
She kneeled alongside the wee little Imp
who had no spark and looked quite limp.
“Leave me alone, I’m banished from school.
And, in truth, I feel like a fool!
I cannot go back, I’ve met my doom!”
He was quite sad, the witch did presume.
Page 7:
“Well, I don’t think you’re a fool, you see.
You’re likely as much of a fool as me.
Tell me now, what happened to you?
Maybe I can help you through?”
The Imp was nervous but told his story.
Indeed the poor Imp had lost his glory.
Page 8:
“Every time,” the Imp began, “I’m asked to cast a spell,
instead of naughty, annoying, things my magic turns out well.
I am an Imp – I’m meant to be tricky;
I’m meant to throw eggs and get children sticky.
I’m meant to make the babies cry
by drowning out the lullaby.
I’m meant to cause chaos – as much as I can.
But, these days, nothing goes as I plan.
I’m not meant to be good or kind or nice.
I’m meant to be trouble… like give children lice!
My teacher threw me out today
because my tricks are more like play.”
Page 9:
The witch’s cat then sat alongside him.
In days gone by he’d have run.
Imps don’t like cats; they’re scared of them.
“See, I’m no good! I’m done!”
The Imp crossed his arms and turned his back.
“What it takes to be tricky, I now lack.”
Page 10:
“Hmm…” the witch mumbled, thinking aloud,
“we’ll have to get rid of the cold-and-black cloud
that keeps you sad and not so strong.
Come with me, we’ll soon get along!
I need a very special flower
to make a brew for a dream.
It’s one that makes the children laugh I do not like when they scream.”
Page 11:
“But that was my job,” the Imp did reply.
“I’m meant to make kids scream and cry!
But now I cannot – my fright is gone,
and Heaven only knows why.”
“Heaven you say?” The witch was surprised.
“If you knew of it, you’d be inspired!”
Page 12:
She took the Imp’s hand and started to search
for the flower she needed among the Birch.
The Imp was grumpy and frowning a lot.
He grumbled at all the flowers she’d got.
He wanted to eat them and spit them out,
but each time he touched one, it would start to sprout.
New shoots grew quickly from all of the flowers,
and they grew to full size in just a few hours!
Page 13:
“How did you do that?” The witch was shocked.
“I thought your powers had all been locked?”
“That’s what I said,” the Imp did sigh,
“my bad turns to good and I don’t know why.
I’m not scared of your cat – I’m no Imp at all
if I cannot scare kids and make their eyes bawl.
I cannot go back to the place where Imps live
because I have no naughty to give.”
Page 14:
“Wait a minute,” said the witch,
“I need an assistant round here.
And,” she said as she winked at the Imp,
“I feel my assistant is near!”
She leaned down to him and gave him a kiss.
“You can stay with me, dear Imp, if you wish?
Maybe you were not born to be evil.
Maybe you’re not a nasty Knievel.
Could it be that you’re pure of heart,
and life simply gave you a bumpy start?”
Page 15:
“I look like an Imp and I talk like one, too.
I act like an Imp and get bitter, it’s true.”
“Well, look at me,” the witch replied.
“All that counts is what’s inside.
I am a witch but I am good.
I did not do what the tales say I should.
My family would also cast nasty spells,
but I grew-up different among the Bluebells.
I don’t know why, either, but I’m not like them.
And I know you, too, can start again.
Page 16:
Love is a seed deep in your heart.
You never knew this at the start you were made for good, just like me.
You don’t have to be what they want you to be.
It’s in your soul to be kind and creative,
there’s no need at all to be speculative the proof is there for all to see you’ve turned out good, and you should be free!”
Page 17:
The Imp’s eyes grew wider – he started to smile.
“Well, I would like to stay for a while.
I can help you to make your brews,
and I’m good at stirring stews!
Your cat seems to like me - that’s cool, too!
I think this is nice, being with you!”
Page 18:
And from that day, when the new friends met;
a day that neither will ever forget,
the Imp’s life changed and he remained good,
although he looked scary as all Imps should.
But the witch loved him dearly –
they would never part.
And they stayed with each other;
best-friends at heart.