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  A halloween tale - a halloween poem by Australian poet Graeme King - funny poems, sad poems, serious poems and romantic poems. Poems for children, nature poems and environment poems, flash poetry, fantasy poems, funny limericks and more ©kingpoetry2007.



Halloween, and midnight, trick or treaters long since gone,

Home in bed the ghosts and ghouls and hags,

Dreaming of tomorrow and the plans to feast upon

Sweetmeat treats and candy in their bags.


Sitting in my easy chair I poured another wine,

Childish thoughts of memories of yore,

Meditating Halloween, and children young and fine,

Then I heard a rapping on my door.


Opening revealed a tiny witch, not three feet tall,

Pointed hat and warty comic nose,

Thrusting hairy chin at me she shrugged her witch’s shawl

“All the candy’s finished, I suppose?”


Cackling voice of unknown years, complexion ruddy green,

Something caused me not to be afeared,

Weensy witches late at night were not my usual scene,

Then I saw her wrinkled eyes were teared.


“Every year’s the same” she sobbed, “I feel it isn’t right,

Witches can’t come out till late, you see;

We must stay in hiding till the time is past midnight,

Candy’s always finished -  none for me.”


Something in this minikin fair touched my stony heart,

Causing me to pity her this night;

Piling all the candy in my house into a bag

Watched as wizened eyes beamed with delight.


“Thank you” said the little crone, then jumped upon her broom,

Flew away whilst mumbling runic verse,

Image still imprinted, silhouetted ‘gainst the moon,

Hoping hard she hadn’t left a curse.


Morning came, All Hallows Day, I woke with memories,

Dreams of last night brought a smile to bear,

Coffee bubbling, as I poured, a huge convulsive sneeze,

Sugar, glass and liquid everywhere!


Fetching mop and bucket, I returned to find a scene,

Sorcery at work, that much was clear;

Kitchen table spotless, every item sparkling clean,

Walking round the house, 'twas magic here. 


Every inch was like brand new, it dawned upon me plain,

Tiny witch’s spell was on my place,

Thanks to her, I never had to clean a thing again,

All because I’d shown a hag some grace.




Original pictures by Graeme King ©Kingpoetry2007  BACK to TOP

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