by: John E Pichione

      Beware the eve of Halloween,
       When ghosts and ghouls all lurk unseen,
             When warlocks stalk where'er you walk,
While wind-borne vultures circum-squawk,
When even wolfsbane is in vain,   
To spirits spooky and profane,
When godly angels lose their might
              To oddly shapes their spines affright,


When spiders ooze their gooey nets,
              As night's alive with silhouettes  
Of sneaky rats and squeaky bats,
              And bites from gangs of greedy gnats


            When demons of debauchery  
              Are loosed in all their sorcery,  
              Stir your blood to tickle, tingle,  
                Misbehave, like you were single,      


Devils slink into your drink,
                      In dewy drops, kerplunk, kerplink, 
              Piqueing you to drunken twitch,
              Until you don't know WHICH IS WITCH!


                No, there's naught a night like this,

              More fraught of dizzy deep abyss,

              But fuzzy warm you'll be like me,

              Just read the poems of Glory B

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wolfsbane: a shrub of yellow foliage which,in Dracula movies, is mounted on the outside of windows to ward off his blood-thirsty girlfriend vampira.