Halloween Poems Nice & Spooky

Five Little Pumpkin Sitting On A Gate

Five little pumpkins sitting on a gate,
The first one said,
"Oh my, it's getting late."
The second one said,
"But we don't care."
The third one said,
"I see witches in the air."
The fourth one said,
"Let's run, and run, and run."
The fifth one said,
"Get ready for some fun."
Then whoosh went the wind,
and out went the lights,
And five little pumpkins rolled out of sight!

Only Naughty Children See Spooks on Halloween

by Winifred Sackville Stoner, Jr.

Witches and goblins, spooks and elves, With sprites and gnomes from elf-land delves, Tonight are flying here and there, Yes, up and down and everywhere. For this one night in all the year They rule the earth and bring great fear To all the naughty little boys Who tease good girls and break their toys. These spooks they also make girls sad When they are selfish, cross and bad; So when it's dark, bad boys and maids, They see these awful fearsome shades, And that is why with covered heads, They trembling lie in their warm beds. But even there they goblins see, Spooks and gnomes, and all that be Abroad upon weird Halloween When all the wizards may be seen By naughty kids and grown-up folks Who like to play most wicked jokes. But good young girls and gentle boys, The kids who are their mothers' joys They like the dark just as the light, For spooks never come within their sight, And in their dreams they lovely elves Show them bright scenes from fairy delves. So, if tonight you are afraid Of any spook or any shade, We'll know you are a naughty child, So cross and wilful, rude and wild.

Spooks
- by Sandra Liatsos

There's a goblin at my window,
A monster by my door.
The pumpkin at my table
Keeps on smiling more and more.
There's a ghost who haunts my bedroom,
A witch whose face is green.
They used to be my family,
Till they dressed for Halloween.

Fraidie Cat

by Clinton Scollard

I shan't tell you what's his name: When we want to play a game, Always thinks that he'll be hurt, Soil his jacket in the dirt, Tear his trousers, spoil his hat,-- Fraidie-Cat! Fraidie-Cat! Nothing of the boy in him! "Dasn't" try to learn to swim; Says a cow'll hook; if she Looks at him he'll climb a tree; "Scart" to death at bee or bat,-- Fraidie-Cat! Fraidie-Cat! Claims there're ghosts all snowy white Wandering around at night In the attic; wouldn't go There for anything, I know; B'lieve he'd run if you said "Scat!" Fraidie-Cat! Fraidie-Cat!

Walk Into My Parlor
- by Mary Howitt

"Will you walk into my parlor?"
said the spider to the fly;
"Tis the prettiest little parlor that you ever did spy.
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many curious things to show when you are there."
"Oh no, no!" said the little fly,
"to ask me is in vain;
For who goes up your winding stair
can never come down again."

Seein' Things

by Eugene Field

I ain't afeard uv snakes, or toads, or bugs, or worms, or mice, An' things 'at girls are skeered uv I think are awful nice! I'm pretty brave, I guess; an' yet I hate to go to bed, For, when I'm tucked up warm an' snug an' when my prayers are said, Mother tells me "Happy dreams!" and takes away the light, An' leaves me lying all alone an' seein' things at night! Sometimes they're in the corner , sometimes they're by the door, Sometimes they're all a-standin' in the middle uv the floor; Sometimes they are a-sittin' down, sometimes they're walkin' round So softly an' so creepylike they never make a sound! Sometimes they are as black as ink, an' other times they're white— But the color ain't no difference when you see things at night! Once, when I licked a feller 'at had just moved on our street, An' father sent me up to bed without a bite to eat, I woke up in the dark an' saw things standin' in a row, A-lookin' at me cross-eyed an' p'intin' at me—so! Oh, my! I was so skeered that time I never slep' a mite— It's almost alluz when I'm bad I see things at night! Lucky thing I ain't a girl, or I'd be skeered to death! Bein' I'm a boy, I duck my head an' hold my breath; An' I am, oh! so sorry I'm a nau ghty boy, an' then I promise to be better an' I say my prayers again! Gran'ma tells me that's the only way to make it right When a feller has been wicked an' sees things at night! An' so, when other naughty boys would coax me into sin, I try to skwush the Tempter's voice 'at urges me within; An' when they's pie for supper, or cakes 'at's big an' nice, I want to—but I do not pass my plate f'r them things twice! No, ruther let Starvation wipe me slowly out o' sight Than I should keep a-livin' on an' seein' things at night!

Halloween
- by Mary Jane Carr

Witches flying past on broomsticks,
Black cats leaping here and there,
White-robed spooks on every corner,

Mournful moaning in the air,

Goblins peering out of windows,
Spirit-things that rap and run-
But don't be scared-it's just October,
Having one last hour of fun!

The

Skeleton Dance

After the German of Goethe

The warder looked out at the mid-hour of night, Where the grave-hills all silently lay; The moon-beams above gave so brilliant a light, That the churchyard was clear as by day: First one, then another, to open began; Here came out a woman - there came out a man, Each clad in a shroud long and white. And then for amusement - perchance it was cold - In a circle they seemed to advance; The poor and the rich, and the young and the old, But the grave-clothes impeded the dance: And as no person thought about modesty there, They flung off their garments, and stripped themselves bare, And a shroud lay on each heap of mould. They kicked up their heels, and they rattled their bones, And the horrible din that they made Went clickety-clackety - just like the tones Of a castanet noisily played. And the warder he laughed as he witnessed the cheer, And he heard the Betrayer speak soft in his ear, "Go and steal away one of their shrouds." Swift as thought it was done - in an instant he fled Behind the church portal to hide; And brighter and brighter the moon-beam was shed, As the dance they still shudderingly plied; But at last they began to grow tired of their fun, And they put on their shrouds, and slipped off, one by one, Beneath, to the homes of the dead. But tapping at every grave-hill, there staid One skeleton, tripping behind; Though not by his comrades the trick had been played - Now its odour he snuffed in the wind: He rushed to the door - but fell back with a shock; For well for the wight of the bell and the clock, The sign of the cross it displayed. But the shroud he must have—not a moment he stays; Ere a man had begun but to think, On the Gothic-work his fingers quickly he lays, And climbs up its chain, link by link. Now woe to the warder - for sure he must die - To see, like a long-legged spider, draw nigh The skeleton's clattering form: And pale was his visage, and thick came his bre ath; The garb, alas! why did he touch? How sick g rew his soul as the garment of death The skeleton caught in his clutch - The moon disappeared, and the skies changed to dun, And louder than thunder the church-bell tolled one - The spectre fell tumbling to bits!

The Witches’ Spell

Act IV, Scene 1 from Macbeth (1606) by William Shakespeare

1 WITCH. Round about the caldron go; In the poison’d entrails throw.— Toad, that under cold stone, Days and nights has thirty-one; Swelter’d venom sleeping got, Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot! ALL. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and caldron bubble. 2 WITCH. Fillet of a fenny snake, In the caldron boil and bake; Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting, Lizard’s leg, and owlet’s wing,— For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. ALL. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and caldron bubble. 3 WITCH. Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf; Witches’ mummy; maw and gulf Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark; Root of hemlock digg’d i the dark; Liver of blaspheming Jew; Gall of goat, and slips of yew Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse; Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips; Finger of birth-strangled babe Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,— Make the gruel thick and slab: Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron, For the ingrediants of our caldron. ALL. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and caldron bubble. 2 WITCH. Cool it with a baboon’s blood, Then the charm is firm and good.