First Travels of Max

..."Become St. Michael's sword!" said Max to the stick,
And to the stone, "Be a forty-four revolver!"
Then Max was glad that he had armed so wisely
As darker grew the wood, and shrill with silence.
All good fairies were helpless here; at night
Whipped in an inch of their lives; weeping, forbidden
To play with strange scared truant little boys
Who didn't belong there. Snakes were allowed there
And lizards and adders - people of age and evil
That lay on their bellies and whispered - no bird nor rabbit.

There in the middle of the wood was the Red Witch.
Max half expected her. He never imagined
A witch's house that would be red and dirty,
Or a witch's bosom wide and yellow as butter,
Or one that combed so many obscene things
From her black hair into her scarlet lap;
He never believed there would attempt to sing
The one that taught the rats to squeal...

-John Crowe Ransom