The Mixed Masquerade Poem by Amelia Murray

Witches pick out their best masks.
Ghouls get their best suits.
Vampires sharpen their teeth
to the point of perfection.
headless horsemen browse the pumpkin patches.
Wolves check the moon's movements,
for in a fortnight is the ball.
The Mixed Masquerade.

Ghosts check their various ectoplasms.
Goblins clean their ears
and fairies find the best weaver birds.
Orc's each kill a bear for privileged.
Oracles close their minds to have surprises.
Centaurs call their fellow clans
for in a fortnight is the ball
The Mixed Masquerade.