The clock struck midnight;
You waited too long to leave,
and overstayed your welcome.
You’re now in my yard,
To greet the trick or treaters,
Oh, my little pumpkin.
Rules were laid out,
To go before 12 o’clock,
Or you become my jack-o’-lantern.
Yet you laughed,
Told me to chill,
Now your turn to be still.
The bash is a smash,
So much laughter and banter,
Endless libation and flirtation.
Ghouls gone wild . . .
Dracula dares to juggle for muggles,
While the mummy enjoys stuffing his tummy,
Leaving Frankenstein alone to zip through a line.
Ghouls gone wild. . .
There’s Michael Myers bragging his blade is sharper than Freddy Krueger’s,
Off in a corner is Pinhead trying to hook up with the walking dead,
And here’s Chucky who’s nobody’s doll and way too ugly for the cabinet of Dr. Caligari.
Today’s Halloween, when ghouls gone wild.
Backdrop image: Pixabay
Image from Pixabay/Gianni Crestani
Mouth wide open,
Tongue forked like a snake
No one claims this child.
Insistent cries from hell to heaven,
Drowned by the sound of the harp.
The child’s fingers shaped like a rake,
His face pitted and wild.
No welcome for the heathen,
Ignored as if hidden under a tarp.
He crawls back to Devil’s Lake,
Where he was originally defiled.
[Entry to Monster Masquerade, hosted by Fly TrapMan and Poet Rummager]
©2015 Karina Pinella