New bat, Hypsugo dolichodon, showing off its remarkable canines. Photo by: Judith L. Eger. Mongabay.com News
In spite of its appearance, only an insect eater.
Batty Boo
Had bats in his belfry,
ghouls in his shoes.
Wise owl just winked,
as the witches abused.
Cackling clowns came out,
in a bloody mist that night.
Ghosts appeared just ghastly,
in the eerie pink half-light.
Kiddies were all dressed up,
in expensive costume delight.
Little knowing what awaited,
on the street lit just right.
Skeletons rattled picked clean,
cartooned bleach white bones.
While in the treetops hiding,
tortured regurgitated moans.
Wizard orchestrated mayhem,
flew out of the worth.
Content in the belfry,
bats gave it girth.
In the final hour,
the victims arose.
Kiddies not coming home,
that's the way it goes.
Copyright 2017 © Ronald W. Hull
10/27/17
Read this poem on my website here.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Love ya!
Jane