Randy Imwalle

Two witches are stirring a pot
And they stir it until it gets hot
So while I am looking
I ask what they're cooking
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A naughty young pumpkin named Nick
Thought he was pretty darn quick
He stole a kid's treat
And raced down the street
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The subject can be anatomical
The use of words - economical
But the poet sometimes
S/he forces the rhymes
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There once was a fellow named Nash
He could write funny poems in a flash
But some of the time
The truth of the rhyme
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There once was a fellow named Crane
With a fear of ghosts in his brain.
The man with no head
Filled him with dread
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Donating blood is quite easy
They give you a ball that is squeezy
It always seems fun
(At least when you're done)
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There once was a scarecrow named Hal
Who had a big crow for a pal
When the farmer asked why
He'd a friend who could fly
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There once was an elf named Glitter
Who loved to tweet tweets on her twitter
But this broke a rule
(Santa being old-school)
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The wind and the sand did batter us
The rain and the spray did splatter us
The hurricane warning
Said to leave in the morning
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When you hear the banshee's shrill cry
A person, high-born, will die
A murder, quite often
Is what fills the coffin
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Young Jack, the pumpkin, sat mute
Quite happy to be a round fruit
A boy with a knife
Made him fear for his life
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Here I stand with my brother
The last two sons of my mother
Now comes the man
With an axe in his hand
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The turkey's a talkative bird?
That's what I've always heard.
But I've never heard chatter
From one on a platter.
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'I have a dream, ' he said
Then four years later, he's dead
Though he is gone
His spirit lives on
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