It’s All Hallow’s Eve and there’s little sound,
Except for a few goblins dancing around,
An old witch creates another evil spell,
Summoning demons from down in Hell.
The old hag stirs her boiling stew,
Adds eye of a newt, and another shrew,
The cauldron bubbles over the roaring fire,
The smoke rising up, higher and higher.
A black cat watches and suddenly screams,
It’s enough to haunt anyone’s dreams,
The old woman smiles an evil grin,
Her wart covered face personifies sin.
Looking around the spooky room,
Perched in the corner is a wooden broom,
Later she’ll get on it, and will take flight,
As she rides off on All Hallow’s Night.
Somewhere another victim will await,
Helpless to control their coming fate,
Another body that will soon be cold,
Another life that will never grow old.
Just another night’s work for an evil crone,
It’s what you do when you’re bad to the bone,
For another year, she will take leave,
And be back again next All Hallow’s Eve.
11-01-14.
This was written tonight for a Facebook event sponsored by author Fran Ayers called "Halloween Poetry And Flash Fiction Scare Fest"...the works will be published in an eBook as well btw...
