As autumn painted its own dyeing tinge
and cold whining winds chilled us shivery,
she loomed like a broom from a witchery.
He donned a huge visage all in orange
and baffled our brains with his blather binge.
With bewitched brows raised in her treachery,
her cold — as — ice stare betrayed trickery.
The scary! The orange! Aghast our cringe!
When Halloween comes they’re loose in the night
to roam towns and boroughs where we feign fear.
Orange pumpkins carved with faces of fright
are jack – o – lanterns whose eerie eyes leer.
Giddy hobgoblins scamper in moonlight;
while watchful mortals hover — oh, so, near.