Pendergased

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

10-24-2015

Rew. 08-29-2020