5th Halloween Poem Contest – 2nd Group Of Submitted Poems —

Picture courtesy of: http://preventioncdnndg.org/

Please respect each authors’ and poets’ copyright. The rights remain with the writers. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from each of the poems author’s is strictly prohibited and violates copyright laws in the country you are reading this work in as well as in the country you are trying to re-publish this work in. – Aurora Jean Alexander



Donna Matthews

goblins and ghouls shrieking all night
it’s halloween! the witches dance and sing
haunting humanity with terror and fright

vampire bats wake and take flight
tender young necks a delicious thing
goblins and ghouls shrieking all night

gravediggers shovel dirt; sneering with delight
human spare and found parts they fling
haunting humanity with terror and fright

the boogeyman tall, fearsome and might
terror and dread his shadow will bring
goblins and ghouls shrieking all night

zombies moan in the bright moonlight
out of the grave and wandering
haunting humanity with terror and fright

the graveyard bathed in an eerie green light
it’s halloween! the witches dance and sing
goblins and ghouls shrieking all night
haunting humanity with terror and fright

All Hallow’s eve Candy Girl


Marjory Mallon

Curvaceous candy stick girl
Her brash hair is pink
Her nails are too
She sashays by and disappears.
A tickled pink apparition

of rainbow stripy stockings.
She teases with her lipstick smile
Twirls by too darn quick
Like champagne bubbles
Blinking through false lashes. See

a passerby’s hair is now lollipop blue.
Nails a pretty sky hue
Captured joining sweetest nibbles!
She sighs, candy-lipped
As sensual silks sway

in symphonies of sweet organza.
Come bubblegum hearts
Sugar sweet babes,
Licorice all-sorts.
Let’s sashay away marshmallows,

Trick or Treat, sugar-tipped
Coins, gum, pick and mixes
Chewy, jelly, sherbet fixes
Candy cone bites mingle

as Joker snatches bonbon handfuls.
Devils desire red chilli sweets
Vampire fangs dip in space dust
Pumpkins gobstopper around
Addams family – Cousin Itt

who sits with VIP scary magic minx’s,
Witches, and sugar twitches
Cocktail umbrellas and alcohol pitchers
The party heightens and revels
Trick or tricksters tumble

trapped In sugar-coated ditches.
Ghostly gatecrasher’s senses tremble
One chocolate heart’s never enough!
Skeletons, please… die, resuscitate
Join us for one last fizzing bite!


The Churchyard at Night


Stevie Turner

A hooting owl
Sits on a bare branched yew,
While shadows from the moon
Creep across the tombs.
Fog rolls in from the east
And the churchyard sleeps.
The chiming of midnight
Is a doleful sound.
It wakes up the corpses
Who live down in the ground.
One by one
They moan and taunt,
And go a-haunting
As is their want.
They rattle their chains
And scream with all their might,
The living hear them and fear
All things going bump in the night.
No one is safe
Until daylight seeps through
The bare branches
Of the aforementioned yew.



Anisha Jain

The rusty, creaky iron door
Welcomes you in to the land of the dead
Where, to Hades’ ravenous earth,
Bodies of the dead are fed.

The chilling wind and moonless night
Are a reminder of their last moments-
How their body went cold and eyes lost light,
How they took a last wheezy breath.

The gravestones stand like sentries
On the battlefield of the graveyard,
Each guarding its own;
For who knows when claustrophobia might strike ’em.

Each one with a different epitaph-uniform
Like the shortest biographies in the world,
A whole life crammed in a couple lines
Just like the body in the coffin inside.

Some moss-covered, some cracked
Some’s uniform so worn,
You can’t even decipher the engravings
A whole life, forgotten.

Flowers, once red, but now so withered
They crumble into dust at the slightest touch,
Their bond with the living plane broken
Dead, like the subjects of the tombstones.

Here and there you might see a snake
Come to guard the dead from the living,
To see that no one crosses the Styx alive
Lending a hand to the boatman.

The oaks and pines are grave,
Just like the yard they grow in
Realising that none but the gods are immortal
Thanatos will come for them one day.

One day this graveyard will grow so vast
That it covers the entire Earth,
One day no one will be left to give
Living roses to the dead.