Halloween, a Fickle Queen.

A Halloween poem.

Creepers creeping quietly along a darkened wall.

Shadows stretching suspiciously, short and tall.

The beginning or the end, a foe or friend.

Whispers in the wind, their secrets that they send.

Leaves that flutter, flitting high, and sinking low.

Terrifying, shaking, smiling just for show.

Misting, twisting, shivering, blood runs cold.

Stories told, to young and old, the scared and bold.

Of the Pumpkin Prince, carved and hollow, a glowing fiend.

And Halloween, a fickle queen, in browning green.