The Haunted House on Howlin’ Hill

Haunted

by Shel Silverstein

I dare you all to go into

The Haunted House on Howlin’ Hill,

Where squiggly things with yellow eyes

Peek past the wormy window sill.

We’ll creep into the moonlit yard,

Where weeds reach out like fingers,

And through the rotted old front door

A-squeakin’ on it hinges,

Down the dark and whisperin’ hall,

Past the musty study,

Up the windin’ staircase--

Don’t step on the step that’s bloody--

Through the secret panel

To the bedroom where we’ll slide in

To the ragged cobweb dusty bed

Ten people must have died in.

And the bats will screech,

And the spirits will scream,

And the thunder will crash

Like a horrible dream,

And we’ll sing with the zombies

And dance with the dead.

And howl at the ghost

With the axe in his head,

And--come to think of it what do you say

We go get some ice cream instead?

Bracelet available on etsy: 

https://www.etsy.com/listing/205388634/ghost-black-cat-witch-halloween-charm?ref=shop_home_active_1

Bats Are Creepy, Bats Are Scary, Bats Do Not Seem Sanitary

The Bat
By Frank Jacobs

Bats are creepy; bats are scary;
Bats do not seem sanitary;
Bats in dismal caves keep cozy;

Bats remind us of Lugosi;
Bats have webby wings that fold up;
Bats from ceilings hang down rolled up;

Bats when flying undismayed are;
Bats are careful; bats use radar; 

Bats at nighttime at their best are;
Bats by Batman unimpressed are!

Bats on etsy: https://www.etsy.com/search?q=cornerstoregoddess%20bat&view_type=gallery&ship_to=US

A Haunted Halloween Howl

a

Haunted

by Shel Silverstein

I dare you all to go into

The Haunted House on Howlin’ Hill,

Where squiggly things with yellow eyes

Peek past the wormy window sill.

We’ll creep into the moonlit yard,

Where weeds reach out like fingers,

And through the rotted old front door

A-squeakin’ on it hinges,

Down the dark and whisperin’ hall,

Past the musty study,

Up the windin’ staircase--

Don’t step on the step that’s bloody--

Through the secret panel

To the bedroom where we’ll slide in

To the ragged cobweb dusty bed

Ten people must have died in.

And the bats will screech,

And the spirits will scream,

And the thunder will crash

Like a horrible dream,

And we’ll sing with the zombies

And dance with the dead.

And howl at the ghost

With the axe in his head,

And--come to think of it what do you say

We go get some ice cream instead?

Bracelet up for auction on ebay: 

http://stores.ebay.com/Cornerstoregoddess/Halloween-/_i.html?_fsub=5751384&_sid=7466925&_trksid=p4634.c0.m322

The Witch's Broom

There once was a witch of Khartoum,

With black cats and bats, and of whom

She asked, “Tell me truly

Why my spell’s unruly?

I can’t cast a spell in a tomb!”

Her potions were fetid and foul;

The very scent made the cats howl.

No deeds she predicted,

Her powers restricted,

She almost threw in the dish tow’l.

“If only, if only,” she cried,
“I had a broom like others ride,
I could cast spells, stir potions,
Pursue witchly notions,
And broadcast my powers worldwide.”

For days did the witch snarl and fume,

Stomping about in her room

Until owl, bat, and cat

Had enough of all that

And convened in the witch's boardroom.



“A broom is what’s needed, and now,
Though we’re lacking in skill and know-how.
With a magical mopper
Then nothing could stop her,”
So did all the animals vow.

They made it of brambles and twigs, 

Of leaves, string and supple green sprigs.

They added in straw,

Woven with the cat’s claw,

And claimed ‘twas the broom of bigwigs. 

The witch who was witchly distressed

Saw the broom and was duly impressed.

So sure of its magic

She stopped acting tragic

And did a trial ride heading west.

Now potions and spells she prepares.

“She’s the best,” her fat bat declares.

"The queen of bewitching

Without flub or hitching."

“All due to my broom,” the witch swears. 

There is also a set of asymmetrical earrings. You never know what mood each ear will be in.  

  

The black cat photo is the work of the extremely talented Warrior Princess Di, and is her cat Tim.  

Please visit her blog to see more: https://www.blogger.com/profile/06337410048927461255




Earrings for sale on ebay: http://stores.ebay.com/Cornerstoregoddess/Earrings-/_i.html

Skulls' Night Out

Six skulls were sitting around the graveyard one night, playing poker, and bemoaning the things they had neglected to do and be during their skull careers.


"I was never in a production of Hamlet," lamented one.  "I could have been a contender, instead of a dusty old poker playing skull, which is what I am."

"And I should have been a Grateful Dead skull," complained another.  "Talk about the good life...  Get yourself an old VW van, paint it with flowers, and follow the band around the country.  That's what I should have done."

"Not me," said the third.  "I should have gone in for the pirate's life.  Sure, I know all the lyrics to A Pirate's Life for Me, but, at the time,  it never occurred to me that I would eventually become a symbol for all things pirate.  I wasted the best years of my death!"

"You think you wasted your death?!" retorted the fourth.  "I should have been a biker tattoo for some guy on a big ol' Harley.  I could have hung out on his meaty forearm, defying death...even though I'm like, well... dead."

"Aw, you're all full of dust," remarked the fifth.  "If I had it to do all over again, I'd get on the Día de los Muertos bandwagon.  Be one of those skulls everyone wants  Hang out with all the other skulls.  Everyone brings your flowers and food and presents.

The sixth skull looked at the others through hollow eyes, and then weighed in. "The ultimate," the sixth skull stated, "would be to be the symbol on a poison bottle.  Think about it.  Universally understood, striking fear into the hearts of men everywhere.  A cameo part in It's a Wonderful Life.  Death doesn't get any better than that, my friends."

The skulls sighed, as one, each sure of wasting early years of skullishness.  The first skull absent-minded set down the poker cards and rubbed a nearby tombstone.  Suddenly, in a  flash of light, the Fair Godmother of Skulls appeared.  "I am your Fairy Godmother," she said, "And I am here to grant you one wish."

The skulls started to clamor:

"Keep on truckin'"

"Feliz Dia de los Muertos!"

" Feels like I'm knockin' on heaven's door!"

"Live to ride; ride to live!"

"We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot.  Drink up me 'earties, yo ho!"

"Alas, poor Yorick!"

"Do not induce vomiting!"

"Hold it right there," said the Fairy Godmother.  I didn't mean you each get a wish.  You get one wish for all of you."

The skulls started to confer, then argue, then argue heatedly.  It was only a matter of time before they began to bang heads.  The Fairy Godmother, having seen this behavior before, stepped between them, stopping them instantly.

"Surely there's something all of you wanted to do once upon a time."

They stopped, silenced by her words.  They thought and thought and thought.  But they'd been sitting around the graveyard so long, playing poker and acting tough, that they could no longer remember what they'd missed.  And so their Fairy Godmother decided for them.

"Sure, you could have been tattoos, or symbols... or even pieces of a shrine.  But, really, all that is highly overrated.  When's the last time you had a night out?"

The skulls looked puzzled.

"You know," she said. "Dressing up?  A nice dinner, a show, cocktails, dancing?  What do you say?"

It sounded like the most fun any of the skulls had ever had.  "Then that shall be your wish!" said the Fairy Godmother.  "Go polish your parietal plates and get out your BrightandShinyThings.  You're going out for a night on the town."

And so they found their pearls and their crystals and they sparkled and they glittered.  The skulls got all dolled up and, for one perfect night, they partied like skulls they'd only watched in old films.

And every night after that, when they played Texas Hold 'Em, they remembered that lovely night.  And then they went back to arguing about poison and Harleys and head banging.

And they all died happily ever after.

Day of the Dead on etsy

Day of the Dead on eBay

There are Three Things I Have Learned Never to Discuss with People:

religion

politics

and the Great Pumpkin.

~ Linus Van Pelt

Your very own Great Pumpkins

on etsy

on eBay