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Hazel Connelly Oct 2012
The moon was lost behind a cloud
When something weird went by
I tried to see what it was
But it flew so fast and high.

I don'tbelieve in witches
But that is what I saw
Sailing high in the sky
On broomsticks made of straw.

The stars were gone the night was dark
When something else took place
I couldn't quite believe it
There was a gruesome face.

A skeleton with corpse like face
I viewed it in awe
I don't believe in zombies
But that is what I saw.

The howls and cries
Under the moons eerie light
A master of changing shape
With one infectious bite.

I don't believe in werewolves
But that is what I saw
Walking down the street
With blood stained jaw.

Another creature of the night
With fangs dripping red
A piercing bite upon your neck
Then you are bled.

I don't believe in vampires
But that is what I saw
Lurking near the graveyard
When the moon was low.

All too soon the mellow moon
Lights an empty late night street
Children dreaming, planning, scheming
For next years trick or treat..

© Hazel
Hazel Connelly Oct 2012
Wrestling with his conscience
Abstaining from verbal exchange
Regretting his words

Offended by obscenities
Forgetting his ticket

What is happening?
Obnoxious little men
Rallying in no mans land
Dire consequences
Spasmodic verbal abuse..

©  Hazel
Hazel Connelly Oct 2012
Not in love? he asked
Over and over again
There was a silence.

Indignant towards her
Not in love? he asked again.

Leaning towards her
Over the dinner table
Vacant look on her face
Evident that she meant every word.

©  Hazel
Hazel Connelly Oct 2012
Autumns rich mellow flavoured air
Unmasked, the trees  are now bare.

Seldom do we hear the birds sing
When the Autumn leaves are falling.

Smoke trails from the burning leaves
Carried on the light cool breeze.

The scent of spiced apple days
In the suns golden haze.

The pine towering heavenly high
Dropping fragrances on passers by.

Smell the crisp refreshing air
Wind is blowing everywhere.

The leaves they scatter without sound
Gently cascading to the ground..

©  Hazel
Hazel Connelly Sep 2012
Miserable grey, damp, wet Days
Days shorter and winters Long
Long bleak dark Evenings
Evenings as black as pitch.

Bright frosty cold Mornings
Mornings glistening in the Sun
Sun shines cold as the Day
Day soon will become night.

Snow crisp and White
White flurries fall from the Sky
Sky as white as the Day
Day fades into a crisp evening.

Days engulfed with Floods
Floods devastating your Home
Home unfit to live In
In shelter we seek comfort.

© Hazel
This is my first attempt at loop poetry.
Hazel Connelly Sep 2012
I've won a day at the races
For me and my friend Doreen Maguire
Posh frocks and new hats
That's what we require.

So off we go shopping
Hair and nails done on the way
Well we girls want to lookj our best
For the big race day.

Now Doreen's buxom and curvy
Me I'm thin as a latt
Or you could say slim and slender
And Doreen's just fat.

We went in loads of shops
Nothing seemed to fit the bill
Everything was kind of frumpish
And we're definitly not over the hill.


Then we came accross this shop
In a side street in the town
It's called Reds Closet Boutique
And we both came out with a gown.

We got fascinators to match
Shoes, accessories and bags too
Doreen got something in pink
I got something in blue.

It was the day of the races
We were up with the lark
Had our lunch at Tom and Jerry's
Then off to Haydock Park.

The horses are under starters orders
And I'd backed the grey
Well it came home last
But it was winning all the way.

Now we came to the last race
And we're digging deep in our pocket
Doreen said put it on this
It's called Super Rocket.

Well it romped hom at 50/1
This horse called Super Rocket
And me and Doreen Maguire
Went home with brass in our pocket.

© Hazel
Hazel Connelly Sep 2012
I saw an ad in the local paper
A reunion for the class of 54
I decided I would attend
I’ve never been to one before

It should be grand and lots of fun
So I rented a tux and black tie
Put new batteries in me hearing aid
Bought a wig and polished me eye

I emptied a bottle of old spice
Did me toupee nice with brylcream
I soaked me teeth in steredent
Then gargled with some Listerine

I soon arrived in splendid form
Smelling my very best
It was held in a hall at an old folks home
A place called the shady rest

It’s the fortieth year and it’s very clear
Every one  is  out to impress
Even the Janes that was always plain
Wore their most elegant dress

They came round with name tags
But  didn’t  have one for me
Then suddenly I remembered
I was in the class of 53.

©Hazel
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