There once was a witch on a broom,Who flew by the light of the moon.But she took a wrong turn,Just outside Bern,And missed Halloween, the buffoon!



"The Ghost"
"Boo", said the ghost,But it really didn't scare,'Cause I couldn't take my eyes,Off his vivid ginger hair.It's really not the same,If head to toe's not white.Well, it isn't going to work,When they try to spook and fright.But he tried and he tried,Even though the cause was lost.And he even sprayed it silver,Like a pumpkin tinged with frost.But I suppose I shouldn't laugh,As he puffs



and sighs and moans.So I told him what to do......a white wig he now owns!





"Wayward Werewolf"
As the moon came up,The wolf sat down.Tonight he can't just roam around.It's just not fair,It can't be right!For mum to keep him in tonight.He should be out,He should be prowling.But instead he sits here scowling.For he's been bad,He's made a mess.He's ripped and torn his sunday best!