Black thumbed smudges smear the sky, as
Conical crowned witches’ stick-ponies fly by,
A harvest moon’s night of treachery.
Pumpkin bombs Fall, green, brown, and blue,
Splashing stinky blobs of sticky goo,
Night’s trick-or-treat grotesquerie.
Costumed kids fight into the night,
Their slingshot rockets take to flight,
Shouting “arrrrgh” in joyful revelry.
Spike tipped nails shoot rays of red,
To send the children soon to bed,
Ride coven’s triumphant calvary.
Ronald Whetsell's Creative Writing and Poetry Blog 