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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

A Halloween poem.

Did you see him in the shadows

With those horns upon his head?

Did you feel his cold and scaly skin

With the texture of melting lead?


Did you smell that rancid stench

From the bodies of his dead

And the blood, that has hardley dried,

Among the feathers of his bed?


We shall retire to the drawing-room,

Now that my body has its head,

He wants to thank his dinner guests

For the limbs that they've shed.


Such dinners fall on Halloween

At the haunted house of the Pendergased.

He is such a charmer, and a gracious host,

Until he consumes the last.



D. Thurmond / JEF


Rew. 08-29-2020


Submitted: October 24, 2015

© Copyright 2020 D. Thurmond aka JEF. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Bert Broomberg

Funny one, I liked it a lot.

Wed, October 28th, 2015 10:52pm



Thu, October 29th, 2015 11:03am

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