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There’s a chapel in the valley, 
     On the road to Ballahoon,
And the graves are glistening softly
      In the shimmer of the moon.

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The yew trees cast black shadows 
     And the owl hoots from a tree –
But, I am quickly heading home.  
     It’s not the place for me!

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There’s a clock upon the bell tower
     And it chimes the midnight hour;
And the tiny bats are well awake, 
     Not drowsing in the tower.

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The music from the dark graveyard
    Emits its mournful strains,
And the skeletons rise up and dance 
     And loudly rattle chains.

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The ghosts and witches now arrive 
     And make a mirthful throng –
And the atmosphere’s augmented  
     By a ghastly, ghoulish song.

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It’s best to stay inside your homes, 
    Away from such a scene –
And you’ll understand the reason 
     When I say it’s Halloween.

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Copyright on all my poems

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