Dark orange skies
Fading into black night,
A crescent moon rise
Glowing ghostly white
Skimming overhead
With trick or treaters below,
I watch them tread
Before up I go ...
Flying over corn crops
Reaching out to touch the stars,
Dodging rooftops ...
And parked cars
Above the tree limbs
Sweeping the last leaves,
As I swoop by, skims
The houses' eaves
Over the picket fences
And wrought iron gates,
The night commences
Where the cemetery waits
It is Halloween ...
In all it's sight and sound,
Beautiful to be seen
And I am spellbound!
Categories:
witch broom, appreciation, flying, halloween, holiday,
Form: Rhyme