There is something haunting,

of a full October moon.

The lonely howl of a cur,

deep on the moors.

Leaves blowing helter,

making skelter designs.

Waxy eyes thirsty,

for Autumn final fling.

Wind rattling windows,

as abandoned spirits roam.

Free to dance,

the dance of bones.

To the hoot of owls,

and screeching cats.

Clock strikes midnight,

for the witching hour is upon us.

B O O

Happy Halloween 

.