The Water Witch

Wilson G. Bear

Before the house we dug a well
'Twas all to no avail
The bit of water that we found
Would never fill a pail.

 

A younger woman happened by
Not much more than a girl
She laughed and said she knew a place
Where buried trickles swirl.

 

She wanted but a drinking glass
She'd not touch silver or steel
But take a link of golden chain
And sit down to a meal.

 

We'd killed a hen that very day
We asked her if she'd sup,
We broke bread with her that evening
And poured water in a cup.

 

She took a sprig of willow wand
And placed it in the glass
It turned and bent and pointed to
A hollow in the grass.

 

As surely as she told us
Next morning when we dug
The hole filled up with water
A lovely liquid 'glug'.

 

She returned to us that evening
We showed her the new well
She touched a droplet to her lips
And spoke a silent spell.

 

She beckoned me to follow
And walked  off toward the lake
She hardly broke the surface
But then she turned and spake.

 

She asked me but to promise
To feed her once a year
She vanished then into the pond
Beneath the water clear.

 

Each Midsummer's Day evening
We have a little feast
The Pond Witch always joins us
For her we can do the least.

 

 

Off-the-cuff doggerel... I wrote this for another website, inspired by a contact's posting. Unfortunately, I can't show your the painting; he was uncomfortable with it for some reason and took it down. Too bad, too; it's a lovely piece, an anthropomorphic Doe standing before a pond. 

 --Perfesser