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Jun 2015
'Tis the night that witches fly,
Upon their broomsticks across the sky,
Goblins and ghost and trolls delight,
Never seen in broad daylight.
Werewolves roam this full moon night,
Stay out of the woods, keep away from their bite.
Eye of newt and rabid bat wings,
These are just some of the things,
That go in the kettle of witches brew,
A special concoction, especially for you.

The cemetery is dark where the ghouls like to play,
A place  were even the rats stay away.
The shadows are lurking behind the gravestones,
The screech of the banshee to chill your bones.
The skeletons dance upon the graves,
Of those who died on Halloween day.
The vampires search by night of day,
To **** the blood of those they prey.
From out of the moors six horses approach,
A headless horseman is driving the coach,
He stops at the crossroads and swings open the door,
Beware the raven, as he sings "Nevermore".
Written by
James Greenfield  Yucaipa, California
(Yucaipa, California)   
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