Wilka the Stinky Witch Wilka is a stinky witch,
If ever there is any.
Everywhere that Wilka goes,
A bad smell there is aplenty.
When Wilka goes out on her brim to go and get supplies,
She always is accompanied by a half a dozen flies.
What makes that stench,
You have to ask,
Whenever she flies by.
A cloud of plumes and stinky fumes fills the whole blue sky.
Perhaps it is the old shoes she wears and doesn't wash her socks.
Or maybe it is the wet toad poop she rubs into her locks.
Perhaps it is the green stew she eats with mushrooms that are smelly.
Or maybe it is the lizard claws she mixes with her jelly.
Perhaps it is the onion juice she puts inside her ears.
Or maybe it is her dirty frock that she hasn't washed in years.
What makes that stink,
You have to think,
Whenever she is near.
Her potent smell will fill your nose and make you run in fear.
Perhaps it is the spider webs she rubs onto her skin.
Or maybe it is the tiny mole that lives upon her chin.
Perhaps it is the old burnt suit she rubs under her nails.
Or maybe it is the belt she wears made out of living snails.
Perhaps it is the slimy worms that crawl between her teeth.
Or maybe it is her dusty hat that makes it hard to breathe.
What makes that reek that is so bleak when she walks into her room?
She smells so high it makes you cry and fills your world with gloom.
Perhaps it is the old trash bags she keeps inside her house.
Or maybe it is the rotten cheese she feeds to her poor mouse.
Perhaps it is the goat she keeps that sleeps inside her kitchen.
Or maybe it is the tea she drinks to help with her digestion.
Perhaps it is the crusty crab she tickles with her toes.
Or maybe it is the fungus that grows thick upon her nose.
What is that funk that smells worse than a skunk and makes your nostrils flare?
Just one whiff,
A tiny sniff,
Will make you gasp for air.
Perhaps it is the sugar ants that nibble all her biscuits.
Or maybe it is the crackling crow that brings her tiny trinkets.
Perhaps it is the old wise owl that on her rooftop sits.
Or maybe it is the slimy slug she kisses with her lips.
What makes that pong that is so strong you really have to wonder?
I have to ask.
I have to know.
No longer can I ponder.
Today I saw her standing outside the flower store,
And sleeping on her head was a tiny baby boar.
She had some bulbs of garlic tied around her neck,
And when I asked about them,
She said that they were for her pet.
It all made sense,
That strong fragrance,
That made me want to hurl.
We vampires dislike that smell.
It makes our long fangs curl.
