Beware spellbound cauldrons of witch’s spite,
trod not where cemeteries come to life,
watch for ravaged skeleton holding knife,
hide your children from panoramic blight.
Beneath full moon’s bleeding heinous rays,
in wicked freedom’s seductive employ,
where toothy bats reach for blood to enjoy,
werewolves howl rapture while searching for prey.
Bedeck with garlic cloves home, hearth and neck,
chamber true bullets, silvered and priest-blessed,
crucifix walls, board windows, bolts recheck,
before morn’s light, ghostly spirits obsessed
torment and haunt Halloween’s gloaming trek,
bide, unseen, lest your soul become possessed.

Erin Moen
10/11/03
Copyright 2003 ©