HALLOWEEN
BY FIONA CUMMINGS
You think I’m the
little old lady from down the street?
Well on Halloween I’m a frail old woman you don’t want to
meet
Smells from my kitchen
A magic potion
Boiled bones
My oven groans
What’s inside?
Let’s say people cried
Why not come to mine?
Don’t slip on the slime
If you do
Expect the worst to happen to you
Cat’s tails
And dogs poo
Unshelled garden snails
And soup from my loo
A glass of punch
For a grizzly lunch
Where is my hat
And my broom
My cape and special bag
I’m coming to see you soon
Down your garden path
On your door a rat a
tat tat
Open with care
My treats I will share
Dip in if you dare?
Copyright Fiona Cummings
