by Tom Crowley
Halloween can be quite dreary
Boring costumes, kids are weary,
Hide the candy beneath the floor
Let them tap on our well-locked door.
We three witches - like smoking embers,
Burning logs and severed members
Roasting on a fireplace floor ...
As we sip our POUR FARM pours.
Bellatrix was nearly napping,
Narcissa's foot was slowly tapping
As Cordelia began to snore ...
There came a knock on our well-locked door!
What nerve! How brazen!
I hope it's not that persistent raven!
If I must, I will cross the floor
And EAT whoever is at the door!
I got up slowly, old joints quite sore,
Creaking knees, and creaking floor
Just as I reached my claw to the door,
I thought "I hope it's not LENORE" ...
By now all witches rose to ponder,
A DELICIOUS stranger, perhaps does wander
Across this misty, lonely moor.
It was THEIR mistake to choose THIS door.
The door flung open, all three were waiting:
Drooling, slobbering, hunger not abating
Alas! They found the doorway barren -
Except there stood a nasty "KAREN."
"I want CANDY!" this Karen did implore
Three witches thought "Even KARENS we abhor!"
They grabbed poor KAREN and slammed the door
KAREN soup tonight ... Who could ask for more?