Magic on our broomsticks.

Witches galore, hidden souls ready to soar
cobwebs of the heart can no longer cloud
those ready to fly with brooms dancing proud.

Let's chase the stars as the sky spooks and screams
trailing glitter and laughing while the moon gleams
for we are keepers of this mischievous night
casting spells, conjuring magic and fright.

Let's ride together into the enchanting dusk
where ghouls and vampires give their immortal musk
and all are free to take off pretenses and masks
drinking in the spirits as we share our flaming flasks.

Tonight, graves won't be forgotten and lost
they will be summoned and sung to and crossed
the souls will no longer be cursed and shamed
for we will join bones as this night is acclaimed.

Don't forget at midnight to mount your sparkling throne
as we awaken our monsters and glorify the unknown.

-
Written 10/31/15
(A special Halloween poem for Maple!)