A Halloween poem by C.K. Craven:
Weatherstone Joane lives at the end of the road,
Where the trick-or-treaters thought they should go.
But once they got there,
Up stood their neck hair,
When the Ghoulies all started to show!
A skeleton arose and a vampire appeared,
Out of nowhere, or so it would seem.
And “dead people” were seated,
As if about to be treated,
As dinner guests of Mrs. Joane Beane.
Some kids were frightened, while others were amazed,
By the appearance of the monsters on site.
But there were decorations galore,
And candy and more,
For the children and parents alike.
The “haunted” house was well-adorned,
With a combination of goblins and ghosts.
Rooms were decorated,
The event well-orchestrated,
By Mrs. Beane and her cadre of hosts.
She’s been doing this for 20 years,
And her expertise is readily apparent.
Kids are intrigued but still scared,
Even if they are paired,
With a sibling, a friend, or a parent.
Back in the depths of Old Weatherstone,
Is the “haunted house” of Mrs. Joane Beane.,
So if you should dare,
I’ll see you there,
(If you’re brave enough) NEXT Halloween!
