On Halloween night in '94,
when the last trick-or-treaters were gone,
I snuggled down deep in my covers,
thankful finally to be alone.

Then when my eyelids became droopy,
a horrendous scream rended the air;
I jumped out of bed in my nightgown,
admittedly I'd had a big scare.

I gathered my blanket around me,
to the window I tiptoed to peek,
and there in my yard in the shadows
I saw something that made my knees weak.

A host of weird creatures were dancing
'neath the light of a green-colored moon;
skeletons in rhythm were clanking
to a blood-curdling, bone-chilling tune.

I saw goblins and ghouls sashaying;
poltergeists were tap-tapping on trees,
keeping perfect time with the music
in a mystically-scented breeze.

A vampire appeared at my window
exuding a most confident charm.
Before I could duck he had seen me
and reached in and took hold of my arm.

I'm sure that the window was bolted,
so I must have slipped right through the glass,
because in two blinks of  my eyelids
I was waltzing with him on the grass.

Debonair and appealing, the lad
for dance had a most definite flair,
and soon we were swaying so lightly,
like wispy cloud puffs floating in air.

I admit the night was perfection
'til the sun started slowly to rise --
abruptly in quick transformation
that dude high-tailed away in the skies.

Copyright © 1995 Ruth Gillis

Previously published in Chicken Soup, October 1995