Tis the season to be unjolly

Tis the season to be unjolly.
With darkness, candy,
And reckless folly

Parading gouls,
Witches and lost souls
Door to door they flow
In a dance agaisnt the wind
For sweet treats
And evil grins

Long sheets of white paper
Dangle from the trees
As the moon rises
Caught on a breeze.

At long last the night is deep,
The witching hour,
Kids asleep.
As thier new found sweets
In a bucket nearby; lie.
Time to end this poem to all
Good Night.

-Timothy Douget