Sunday, October 2, 2011


The ghosts of all things past parade,
Emerging from the mist and shade
That hid them from our gaze,
And, full of song and ringing mirth,
In one glad moment of rebirth,
And again they walk the ways of earth
As in the ancient days.

The beacon light shines on the hill,
The will-o'-wisps the forests fill
With flashes filched from noon;
And witches on their broomsticks spry
Speed here and yonder in the sky,
And lift their strident voices high
Unto the Hunter's Moon.

The air resounds with tuneful notes
From myriads of straining throats,
All hailing Folly Queen;
So join the swelling choral throng,
Forget your sorrow and your wrong,
In one glad hour of joyous song
To honor Hallowe'en!

-John Kendrick Bangs


mybabyjohn/Delores said...

A swish, a brush,
A broom doth pass
And not to sweep the floor

Sonia said...


Texan Zombie Goddess said...

Love it!

Magaly Guerrero said...

My hat
My broom
Three pebbles
A string
Bring out the cauldron dearies
Let's spell Hallowe'en!

Ms Lilypads said...

Tea, Tea
If witch ye be,
then grab yer cup
and drink with me!
Petals for the hair
Mint for the lips
Apples for the eyes
A scarf for the hips.