The Haunted Quarry
Is it that close to Halloween the gravestones asked each other.
For toward them was walking Dracula and his older mean brother.
A bit of blood was dripping from the bad brother’s mouth.
The gravestones were silent as they watched them head rapidly south.
Isn’t that where Empathic Witch lives? One asked in fright.
He knew now that it was going to be a scary, terrifying night.
Shh! The other headstone cautioned; he had been here since ’52.
He knew something of the Empathic Witch and what she might do.
Spotted owl flew down with his friend, the Raven, a mystical bird.
We saw Mummy’s Corpse he said; but shhhh you heard not a word.
Gravestones pretended they had no eyes or ears and remained mute.
Both damp, dark, dour, and un-delightful, in no kind of way cute.
Empathic Witch came past in a few seconds with two wiggling sacks.
Where shall I put these? She asked birds, also known as the Jacks.
A quarry down by the pond, Jack Raven said with a bit of keen.
Jack Spotted Owl led the way, which was more than a little bit mean.
Dracula and his brother were never seen again after this Halloween.
Empathetic Witch was crowned the new Witch Forest Queen.
The quarry was never the same, it began drowning people that night.
If you wanted to get me down there, I would put up a hell of a fight.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment