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[center]Vexing Moon
The spirits vex on Hallows Eve,
when veils are thin above the dead,
a harvest rich, makes them not leave,
their treats are bitter dark from dread.
Translucent movement in the night
a scary howling full of shrills,
green witches stew, brews soup of fright,
as goblins dance a dance of chills.
Parades through lanes search long for sweets,
afraid to see a ghostly form,
and bars of plenty; gooey treats
tempt hungry kids into haunt’s storm.
©Linda Balboni 2004[/center]