Darkness falls across the town
The wind scatters the leaves of brown
The clouds embrace the autumn chill
A vulture calls, its voice is shrill
Far beyond, a wolf cries out
Or could the zombies be about?
The ghosts and ghouls and goblins gather
The witches watch, as werewolves slather
Bright red blood on bread like butter
While bats arise and freely flutter
The clock strikes twelve, the bell is tolling
The corpses rise, their eyeballs rolling
The demons dance upon the crypts
Their breath is ice upon their lips
When suddenly the garden gate
Begins to creak and scrape and grate
It squeaks and squeals, tries to unlock
Then swings wide open, to our shock,
And through it tiptoe shadows three,
Two men, one woman, silently,
They hold what seems to be champagne
While sneaking down the narrow lane,
One figure has a giant check,
Another, roses … what the heck?
And just like that, they disappear
Into the murky moonlit air!
What was this sight, this strange surprise
On this frightful night, before our eyes,
Was it simply our imaginations?
A trick? A treat? Hallucinations?
Or could the night as black as coal
Reveal instead the Prize Patrol?
A Winning Moment? Or an eerie scene?
One never knows on Halloween!!!
Happy Halloween from your PCH blog friends!