A Nice Mouse Stew

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Witch Hazel rode to town

on a water buffalo.
(you may frown, 
but she couldnt find a Puffalo)
she was looking for  ingredients

for a nice mouse stew,
six fat brown ones she already slew
(the stew might taste better if we never knew)

But the greengrocer 

was out of eye of newt and leather boot

and the toe of frog/tongue of dog

looked rather hoary.
(you may be pleased to know,
my poet friends,
that even though it rhymes
this is not a true story)

Undaunted, she got up upon her broom
(The cat moved over, gave her plenty room)

She took a turn through spiral forest green,
gathering furry fronds and splattered spleen,
selecting just a few delectable bats
wearing an assortment of delicious purple hats,

hastening home, salivating, fast 
in anticipation of a most tasty repast.

But the bats clung to the pot-lid
and refused to Enter In
and how was she to make a stew,
if stew would not Begin?

She freed the bats
and fed the cats; 
she made a salad green
and now she's out 
dancing about -
to hell with haute cuisine!

for Tony's fun prompt at dVerse: nonsense poems. I just happened to have one in drafts, who'da thunk it? I did expand it a bit, but was happy to have an idea ready to go.