• deep in dark woods of western wilds
• out past Cloud Gate and forbidden miles
• lies a witch in waiting, earnest yet mild
• for evernew converts to lose their wiles
• only on new moons can journey undertake
• for something in brightness patrols Dark Lake
• a fearsome beast not of man stock made
• searches shadows for a traveler’s wade

//

• in darkness of pitch night, cold water creeps
• shipping downshore to where Genderwitch keeps
• a pocket of pansies to welcome new guests
• out to their home from home in far west

//

• with flowers in hand witch greets new arrivals
• those poor, scared souls that traveled great knolls
• slips into a purse numbers of empty vials
• weaves a flowery crown to pay the beast’s toll
• and bids come again, a quest for foreign guest

//

• “ingredients of being, simple things, no doubt,
• are what you ought to bring back about.
• your identity is personal, and important things, i think,
• are what should be back in my cauldron sink.
• so with that forest kings crown you wear on your head,
• begone, bring what is needed back to my homestead.”

//

• “but, genderwitch, if i may call you that,
• what should i bring back along with this hat?
• how am i to know whats important or true
• when i got urges to come here right out of sky blue?
• i barely even know why in world I am here,
• much less how to fix hair that won’t pass my ears!”

//

• “that’s abram's ticket”, genderwitch said with a start,
• “figure out what you want and collect many parts
• any dream of body i can recreate
• as long as i have ingredients for your plate!
• whatever feels right or natural at heart
• is what to bring here and make newly innate!”

//

• “now off, away with you, child, back into wide world
• return once you have sharks teeth, feathers, or milky white pearls
• or anything really, the magics quite divine
• takes just about anything that you can find
• cross the lake anytime with that flowery head key,
• and come back to old genderwitch
• for a body tune-up and tea.”