Jack-O-Lantern, with its batty grin
Sends a chill, up the spine, within
A witch’s hat, but where is she?
Steam rising, the cauldron spits
Candles flicker, yet, there it sits
Black as night, and pointed high
Seems this spell has gone awry
Perhaps, it wasn’t meant to be!
Candles burn, as wax pours down
Still on the chair, a witch’s crown
Dare not touch it, else you’ll find
Two of us, neither of which is kind
Together, we’re one, this witch, and me
In the darkness, I’ve set my spirit free!
©2019 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved