Early Halloween Poem

There's an old house, at the end of the street,
Where on Halloween night, all the spooks like to meet.
You cannot get in, cause the living are barred,
But you can see the skeletons bone dance in the yard.
Phantoms float around; they stop and have chats.
Vampires come too, they fly in as giant bats.
The werewolves run everywhere, howling like mad,
The Pumpkin Heads' faces are all angry or sad.
By the time it is sun-up the party's all through,
The finger food's gone, there's no more witch's brew.
And until next year the monsters are gone,
From this haunted old house, they all have withdrawn.
They'll meet here again next year--and every year after,
To have fun and to party with maniacal laughter.


©2009-Art Belliveau