Sonnet by Kath Norgrove

It is now that time of year

beware of the lost soul

that comes forth from graves so near,

don't scream and lose control

 

It appears from the dark

wailing, in a sphere of white

and horror grips your heart

as it gives you a fright

 

From below some eaves

a shrieking bat,

whilst playing below in the leaves

is the witches familiar, a cat

 

and t'is best you do believe

for this is old all hallows eve.