Potion - another old poem re-posted. Would you care to comment? TY?

Potion

A healer she was, according to some

A bit of Ale's Hoof soaked in some rum

Mixed with red clover and added to tea

Was potion to give strength to the weak

She gathered her herbs when sun dried the dew

Hanged in bunches to dry on the yew

Never forgot the tiny red eye

Anne's lace to heal, hemlock to die

Bark of the cherry wood, sap of the pine

Infused with spring water, mixed with wine

Brought on a cough when the chest was tight

Helping to give a full sleep at night.

When she grew too old to gather her stock

Three volunteered to gather the lot

Telling each carefully what her need

Mint from the spring and mustard seed

And one cures-all herb, she'd told the lad

Needed extra care to avoid the bad

'Mocking the healer, no eye's seen

Queen's lace one, the other a fiend'

The following winter flu came to town

The lad who'd gathered, himself, was down

His mother came running to get a cure

The healer gave it freely to her

Give the laddie potion three times a day

The boy told me he couldn't mistake

Hemlock for Queen's Lace, bright was her eye

Queen's Lace ye live, Hemlock ye die.

And so it was the lad picked his own fate

And drank the potion brewed of Queen's Lace

Red eye not blinking, ye surely die

All he'd picked blinked a red eye

(There is a mocker of Queen Anne's Lace (a 'cure's all herb), commonly called 'Hemlock', as it is poisonous.)