When spooks and specters haunt the moors,

and hide behind old creaking doors.

When red-eyed rats and screeching bats,

and bad luck looms over hissing black cats.

In graveyards tombstones do lie in state,

a grisly epitaph, as coffins await.

Through driving rain and thickening fog,

snakes and spiders do prowl the bog.

The full moon shines upon the white owl,

and brings the dreaded werewolf’s howl.

When ghosts and ghouls and witches cast,

curses on those whose lives have passed.

The Reaper and Horseman do ride through the night,

Terror and horror, a bone-chilling sight.

When scarecrows go up and spiders do weave,

You know it is time for All Hallow’s Eve.