Long Broomsticks Poems
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October's proliferation of bold colors are gloriously on display
Trees crowned and wreathed with russet and bronze leaves
Fruitful are the harvests of grains, bundled in golden sheaves
It's the month when being outdoors invites everyone to play
My heart sings praises to God, for His hand supplies the riches
Cornucopias of gourds and apples for pies, already in the oven
It's the sights and pungent aromas of October that I'm lovin'
There's Halloween candy and broomsticks flying with witches
It's the time of year to wear sweaters when winds are blowing
Weep not for fallen leaves, for they will appear again in Spring
along with the avian flocks, traveling South on fluttering wing
before Winter's gelidity arrives, and suddenly it starts snowing.
~ ~ 10/2/2020 ~ ~
October Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
If only there was a wizard
like Dorthy payed a visit.
If only for our wishing.
A far off land exquisite.
An emerald palace standing.
A place for all to come.
Along a yellow brick road
followed down by some.
A path into a city
where all the dreamers go.
A million tiny munchkins
surrounding you for show.
An Oz home to a wizard.
A great and powerful Oz.
A man to answer questions.
Dreams worthy of their cause.
A place where witches bicker
and evil's fought with water.
Where broomsticks are for flying
and monkeys for the slaughter.
A good witch keeping secrets.
Her wand for waving greetings.
And knowing ruby slippers
means home and not for fleetings.
Witches, warlocks, ghouls and ghosts.
Vampires, veins, Halloween hosts.
Black cats, broomsticks, magic and more
Trick-or-treating with the witch next door.
Potions, powders, apple bobbing too
Your mask is awesome. Who are you?
Mystic, seer, prophetess, gypsy, guru,
Shaman, pirate, Dracula, Cookie Monster Blue.
October beggars follow the herd.
Is that Grover and happy Big Bird?
Great night for aliens to land in town.
They will fit right in, for miles around.
Just grab a bag as they approach me.
I hand them out, one, two. and three.
They are amazed, fitting in right away.
They learn Trick-or-Treat pretty fast to say.
Three years ago sad night because my best friend drowned.
I feel badly on Halloween because he is not around.
Milky Ways, Babe Ruths, Hershey bars too.
Watch out! My cousin Pete just threw up on my shoe.
The moon is full, yellow, bright, winking at us.
The aliens give it no attention, not a bit of fuss.
The sky has turned into a brilliant orange hue.
I love October thirty—first, how about you?
If witches would stay off their broomsticks,
not collecting black cats and kids,
not charring the sky with their tricks,
keep to their bottomless pit, deep off the grid…
If their cackles were buried in hell,
their pimples and warts swarmed with heat…
if they couldn’t, not one, recall a spell
and stayed off the world’s beat…
If witches would fall in their own cauldron
with all the eyes, ears, and feet they stole,
their curses ne’er heard again, end their doctrine,
face down in mire and defeat of their souls…
then the light of the sun and the moon
and the stars and candles would burn
with a glow of happiness and swoon -
to a glorious paradise mankind would return.
10/25/2022
On Halloween night, do you dare go out into the full moon light?
Zombies and scary creatures are out there with their terrible sighs
your mind will be filled with such horrid delight, while witches on
their broomsticks will go flying by.
Darkness will be upon the street where you and others live
all Hallow's Eve is full of freight and always gives such a shiver.
Everyone at their door, trick or treat with their loud voices they give
and spooky laughter in a dark... dark room, they also shall deliver.
Masked faces and ghost every where you look, never
know if it is real or just a Halloween costumed look.
Your heart will beat wildly with such a loud chatter
and every time someone screams, all your friends will
scatter.
On Halloween stay close to the street light, for you may end
up in a dark and haunted graveyard before the end of the night.
Werewolves and vampires they say all live in there,
always walk with caution for you could fall deep into their lair.
Darkness descending,
Dread ascending,
Living dead crawl out of unseen places,
Walking with lacerations and mutilated faces.
Enchantresses are eager to cast spells,
Lightning bolts fly around like shells,
Hade's gates are wide open,
Silhouette creatures come for the chosen.
Vampires stealthy come out of their closets,
With flaming eyes, they morph into bats,
A Halloween with uncanny deposits,
On broomsticks, witches take flight with black cats.
Gloom pervades the day,
Creepy crawling things move like tendrils,
They cluster the pathway,
A cauldron is seething with pigs' entrails.
October 30, 2022.
Halloween Poetry Contest,
Emile Pinet.
Eating your leafy words
Is wise,
Not absurd,
Not a vitamin guise.
Sweet logorrhea of crimson carrots
And great golden potatoes
With blueberry beauties
Nibbling newborn walnuts.
Sage sachets invoke lucid lentils lore,
Rosy resonance forevermore.
The tastiest side salad awaits
With vanilla visions for all my mates.
I'm coherently linking leafy greens,
A poet's realm of vegetable things.
Linking lavender to raspberry resonance,
Merry mustard seeds, and petite pumpkins.
Starlit sunflower seeds are swirling
While the ivory cauliflower is boiling,
And raspberries on broomsticks baffle
The mischievous umber mushrooms.
Those who eat dinner with me
Will digest split pea poetry,
A discerning dinner with glee,
Filling our carefree cups with timeless tea.
grandma had always been a magical offspring of nature
collected herbs images mushrooms psychedelic support
tattoo in her mind rebellion independence and freedom
mescal beans at stakes looking like witches’ broomsticks
cultivated night shade a belladonna of sorts in the woods
tree house cut from the forest and the stepladder frayed
an outpost for the paradigm bare of dogma and convention
a jungle of green sheltering indigo orange and violet of mind
no phone no computer only drums of heart and pulsation
spirits did not haunt her impression of legendary surprise
a pen cut from charcoal a sharpener cut from pine growth
opinions and premises and razor sharp wits and emotions
no delete button no erasure only stream of the subconscious
free flow of psychedelia as she flowed in crocheted pants
over all happy and void of convention and stifling dogma
lotus position next to a mat woven from strawberry fields
coarse linen cushion haunted hunting to mould her behind
future certain breast happily sagging but pendulous thoughts
wicked and mysterious and candle light a flaming lamppost
from desk to kitchen and boudoir as a anthracite fire raged
pendulum swinging from knotted branches swayed in the wind
crystal balls blown from history nostalgia and fierce resistance
tea leaves coffee ground a cup full of memories and aspirations
never too old to have a happy childhood she abandoned the past
tribulations conjectures treasure chest of nuggets wisdom’s appeal
the old scribe never died for an apple seeds quite close to its home
26th June 2020
It’s time to party
Like no tomorrow
At the Haunted Halloween House
It’s time to party
With the ghosts
And shout with all your might
BOO
It’s time to party
With the Wicked Witches
And fly around on broomsticks
It’s Halloween
The spookiest and creepiest time of the year
So lets all let loose and party all night long
It’s time to party
Like no tomorrow
At the Haunted Halloween House
It’s time to party
With the party pumpkins
And play pranks
It’s time to party
With the skillful scarecrow
And act all sneaky
It’s Halloween
The spookiest and creepiest time of the year
So lets all let loose and party all night long
It’s time to party
Like no tomorrow
At the Haunted Halloween House
It’s Halloween
So lets have a creepy and spooky Halloween
That we will never ever forget
They're polishing their broomsticks
and sharpening their hats
Catching little spiders
and feeding them to bats
Howling at their cauldrons
and cackling to cats
Cradling wooden stir sticks
and babbling for spats
Mixing up their potions
and yelling out their spells
Rebelling that they're no good
and relishing their Hells
Rising up to bubbles
and thinning out to steam
Cautious of the vapors
and crazy as a meme'
Holding out for new moon
and precious as it seems
Coddling for the season
A Thresh's Halloween!
I wrote this poem based on one I found
on the internet by Lillian Moore.
Here is her version of the poem from
the book Spooky Rhymes and Riddles
Poem about THEM
THEY
polish their broomsticks,
sharpen their hats,
catch some spiders,
feed the bats,
try out some yowls
with all the cats.
THEN
witches are ready for
YOU
KNOW
WHEN!
-by Lillian Moore