scary Halloween poem.
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Walking in the cemetery late one night--
ghouls, gremlins, vampires pirouette through the night.
"Come on, do join us and have a little bite."
On my neck Drac nibbled but I had no fright
till Dracula screamed. "My blood has been 'creamed'
Don't bit her … she's wolf!" (Didn't he see my hooves?)
PMS drives me crazy when I'm hairy.
You'd best leave me be when I am contrary.
Like most animals, I tend to be leery
but, swathed in fur, can pretend to be 'teddy'.

Walk into in the cemetery Halloween
all graves gaped, sprawled open, pure chaos, who screamed?
Panting creatures prowl, skeletons creak, ghosts gleam—
tall, thin, short, fat, all shapes, feathered furred … most mean
are hungry for feasts, meat. Can't you hear their heartbeats?
They hide in bushes, streets knowing, like sheep, people bleat.
When the moon's ebony, I crawl, fetch flesh
and blend in with others. (Werewolves make most retch.)
If you see us coming, hide and turn locks, switch
off the lights, wear a cross and pray in the pitch.

Waltzing in the cemetery, we're a sight
to tango, twist as if we were nights' delight.
Don't give us dinner as we all tend to bite!
(We know it's wrong but cannot do what's right!)
Scratch windows, on doors knock trick-or-treating your block.
Sure, we seem lame … though flock—regurgitated rot--
from the bowels of earth we came back to prowl.
We're going to get you all. Don't you hear us HOWL?
I know you are frightened; please don't have a cow!
Your imagination loosed a frog and … SOW!

Walking to the cemetery, I laid down
this town's filled with puppets and a grotesque clown.
We must have frightened people—they've moved around.
Our work is finished here it's now a ghost town.