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When Hallowe'en Poetry Rocked The Garden

By Ashleylister @ashleylister
In Hallowe'en week, the Dead Good Poets ran a ghoulish poetry workshop as part of the fun and games on offer at Devonshire Road Rock Garden's Hallowe'en Party. It was a brilliant afternoon.
Children aged 6 to 60 took part and here is a selection of what they wrote - and in some cases performed. Most of the poems were built around half a dozen keywords that each writer was dealt at random from a pack of ghoulish cue cards. Their fertile imaginations did the rest. Everyone involved worked really well and we hope you enjoy reading the works they created. (In the interests of confidentiality, names have been withheld.)
Thank you to the Friends of Devonshire Road Rock Gardens for inviting us. It is a fantastic place to visit and we hope to stage another Dead Good Poetry event there in the summer.
When Hallowe'en Poetry Rocked The Garden
Be Warned
Darker than shadows in the middle of the night,
Running in the forest with no sign of any light,
Devils, demons, vampires with a special little bite
Climbing up a tree with a big height,
The vampires are coming with skin that is white
But the sun is too big to be hidden by a kite
So be warned vampires you will be in for a fright!
The Rat Monster
Watch out in the alley-way, he may be lurking there.
Take care in the garden or he'll give you a scare.
He is the Rat Monster, he has a funny glare
But if you dare laugh...
He'll turn you into a bunch of bones and hair!
Hallowe'en
Hallowe'en is minutes away,
creeps moaning are all you can hear,
light slithering out of the day,
people knocking on doors with no fear.
Snarling dogs with a vicious bite,
humans dressing up ready to fright,
people covered in blood,
ghosts, clowns, even little red riding hood.
Chilly wind, choking smoke,
storms brewing,
putting on make-up for a joke,
witches' potions stewing.
Rats scuttling, crawling,
heads in cauldrons, apple-bobbing,
children begging for treats, cold-calling,
people running scared and sobbing...
Souped Up!
On Hallowe'en I treat my bat
For being such a lovely pet.
I give him slime-and-cobweb soup.
He dips his wings to get them wet,
Then licks them for a spell.
But then to my immense surprise
His eyeballs swivel side-to-side.
He starts to snarl and howl in fright
And changes right before my sight
Into a souped up werebat!
Bloody Monsters
There are monsters out on Hallowe'en night
Wandering to put a spell on you.
They like to suck the blood out of your neck,
Bite the bones of your elbow.
You wake up and think it was a nightmare
But it wasn't!
You see a monster, then another
And another and another and another...
They keep on sniggering and you feel eerie
Until at last you SCREAM
And you're saved by your adults.
Finally, a group poem to which several writers contributed a verse...
Thingy
All Hallows E'en is hours away,
so heed these words of warning:
keep your wits about you kids,
for Thingy's day is dawning.
His eyes flash red,
his breath smells fouls
and he howls a terrible howl.
When you're knocking on doors
for a trick or a treat,
watch out! for Thingy
is fast on his feet.
His eyes flash red,
his breath smells fouls
and he howls a terrible howl.
His scream is a shriek that could vanish a witch
and the rats they all scuttle in fright.
As Thingy's Hallowe'en appears...
the day of the dead becomes night.
His eyes flash red,
his breath smells fouls
and he howls a terrible howl.
He's only allowed out once a year,
so tries to cram a lot in:
small pets, stray kids - with chips and gravy,
even roots in rubbish bins.
His eyes flash red,
his breath smells fouls
and he howls a terrible howlllll......
If you like what you've read, feel free to share a link. If you'd like to know more about our regular open mic poetry nights, just email: deadgoodpoets@hotmail.co.uk and if you'd like to read more, check out some of the great daily blogs in the TRENDING THIS WEEK section - somewhere to the right as you scroll up the page. Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook

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