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About This Poem
On All Hallow's Eve
On All Hallows Eve, darkness balks
The fields are full of crisp cornstalks.
The boyo's have egged the paper birch
and left their lassies alone at church.
A red moon lights a flight of hawks,
a murder of crows, tree high squawks.
Apples are left for ghosts who walk
and the Banshee risen from her perch
On All Hallow's eve.
So wrap your neck in a cross gold
beware the Pooka, he's foretold,
carry a Jack-o-lantern..lit
and holy water in your kit
bring a pretty lass to console
On All Hallow's Eve.
*Banshee a female spirit in Irish Lore who warns of impending death
**Pooka a shape changing goblin who oft appears as aheadless horse.
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