
In a lean-to structure on a brumal day
A woman aged did chance to stay
She was no witch, but was seen that way
Why they thought so is hard to say
Her cloak drawn tightly against the cold
She drew a small bundle from beneath its folds
Pouring some contents into a wee cauldron without haste
So that none of the herbs precious would go to waste
She placed the strong pot onto the firewood with care
She struck her flint until the tinder did flare
Soon the fragrance of Chamomille filled the glade
And the sense winter dreary began to fade
Hot cup of tisane now in her hand
She settled back, the most fainéant person in all the land
Padre
Lean-to, Bundle, Witch, Chamomille, Herbs, Firewood, Cauldron, Cloak, Haste Brumal- wintry, Dreary, Fainéant- an idle or ineffective person