Actually, it's Delia Witch and she's calling to remind you about the “WITCHY” Poetry contest starting tomorrow on The Storyteller’s Scroll.
So, try your wand (oops, I mean your hand) at a silly poem.
. . Or make it scary!
The winner will receive a signed copy of Delia Witch’s new picture
book,
It’s Raining Bats and Frogs,
all the way from Great Britain.
Contest runs from October 8th to October 15th and
then Delia and her author, Rebecca Colby, will be interviewed on the
Storyteller’s Scroll. Come see how Delia’s story got started.
Here is my poem.
Here is my poem.
By Gayle C. Krause
Be she a witch of beauty?
…or does she wear the face of hags?
Does she dress in sparkly gowns?
…or black and tattered rags?
Does she hold her magic
in a fancy-feathered frond?
…or does she use a gnarled stick
for her magic wand?
Is she the wicked type?
…or does she hail from good?
Keep your eyes open, child!
She's in your neighborhood!
@Gayle
C. Krause 2015
I'd love to win a copy of this cute Halloween book.
ReplyDeleteBrew Ha! Ha!
By Caszia Thompson
Josie was a little witch
who used her wand
to make things switch. . .
like Elmer’s nose,
and Sweetie’s clothes,
and Ebenezer’s crooked toes.
She laughed so hard,
She thought it fun
To see her friends
come all undone.
But Josie’s spells
caused quite a glitch,
Once they were cast
She got an itch. . .
Inside her nose
Beneath her clothes
And even in-between her toes.
Sweetie offered her a drink.
She drank it with a straw.
Her itchy welts began to shrink. . .
But . . .
it was . . .
a brew-ha-ha!
Josie hair disappeared.
Instead, her head grew fur.
“It’s only fair,” Sweetie said.
Her friends now laughed at her.
Spookadilly Stew
ReplyDeleteSome witches conjure up a spell
And others ride their broom
They cackle and they snicker
Underneath an orange moon
But there’s one witch who doesn’t chant
Her name is Lena Lou
She’s known throughout the village for
Her Spookadilly Stew!
It’s made from fresh ingredients
She gathers from the land
A tiny slug, a giant crab
A quarter cup of sand
Some slimy moss, a dozen ants
A few mosquitos, too
They’re flung into her cauldron where they make a mighty brew
Droves of witches round the world
Haven’t got a clue
How she makes this scrumptious dish
Called Spookadilly Stew
It packs a punch in every bite. A cause for celebration
Witches sing with much delight this yummy incantation
SPOOKADILLY STEW, SPOOKADILLY STEW
MAKES MY TUMMY HAPPY,
I LOVE SPOOKADILLY STEW!
Turn about is fair play. I love the double meaning of Brew- Ha! Ha! Good luck. I'm sure Delia would like the recipe for that potion. :)
ReplyDeleteOoooo, what a great Halloween poem. Spookadilly Stew sounds delightfully frightful. :) Good luck.
ReplyDeleteThe Witch
ReplyDeleteWho killed the witch in the ditch?
Who left her head in the bed?
Who hid her hand in golden sand,
And what makes you think she’s DEAD?
Scary witch, isn't she? Good luck, Don!
ReplyDeleteGayle, I've been in a writing funk, so thanks for the fun contest to get the coals stoked:)
ReplyDeleteThe Bully Spell
Great Great Grandma Thistle
Would cast a wicked spell
To pluck the eyes from those
Who wouldn’t serve her well.
Great Grandma Narcissus
Improved a couple words
And learned to turn her foes
Into squawking birds.
Grandma Oleander
Thought best to add a rhyme
Which changed a normal storm
Into raining slime.
My Mama Mistletoe,
Upset by teasing boys,
Increased the poison parts
To end their naughty noise.
This mighty spell they passed
To me with loving bond,
So shut it Jimmy Brown
Before I wave my wand!
Whoa! If Jimmy doesn't stop his bullying, he might end up as a poisoned, blind, squawking bird in a slimy storm. Great!
ReplyDeleteGood luck, Lauri. :)
Widdershins Witch
ReplyDeleteDon’t stir the cauldron widdershins
Don’t walk against the clock
Or suns will settle in the east
With evening’s crowing cock
The moon will rise in morning skies
The mouse will catch the cat
The stroke of noon will darken
At the screeching of a bat
Don’t stir the cauldron widdershins
A bubbling backwards brew
Will turn the world upon its end
And you will always rue
The topsy turvy downside up
World in which you land
Where witches wield no power
And crème brulee is banned
Oh, no! Not a ban on creme brûlée! Very clever backwards world, Rainchains.:) Good luck!
ReplyDeleteWhen the Sun Goes Down in Halloween Town
ReplyDeleteIt’s All Saints Eve, and the sun hangs low.
Costumed boys and girls are anxious to go
trolling the streets with their buckets and bags,
sporting gowns, capes, cloaks – fancies and rags.
Sparkly princesses and green, warty witches,
get-ups sure to put parents in stitches.
Heroes, demons, C-lebs, and creatures,
it’s a show worthy of snacks and a long row of bleachers.
Skipping through streets, kids laughing and chatting,
pint-sized vampires and ghosts, moaning and batting.
Spooky-good fun and bags filling up fast,
stops for chocolate and cider – why, the night is a blast!
After a while, though, the sun is now lost
The house lights are out, and the air holds a frost.
Streets once-filled with kids have cleared all but a few
brave, greedy souls craving more sugary fuel.
Now from bushes and trees more begin to emerge,
but these beasts aren’t wearing suits from a retail-store splurge.
Not chatting or laughing, trolling or drinking,
Just unhuman beasts, yelping and stinking.
Scary-good fun fades, panic chills like a wester.
It’s not even funny that one looks like Unc. Fester.
So, the brave few that remain scamper quickly for home,
leaving lost spirits alone in late-night hours to roam.
Zombies and warlocks, werewolves and ghouls,
all refusing to follow Halloween’s safety rules.
Not like all the others – these things from beyond.
There’s no telling how much evil they’ve spawned.
So, when Halloween rolls around, as it does every year,
don’t linger too long seeking frightful-good cheer.
For evil beings, like kids, wish to go into town.
They a need a break, too, from the burial ground.
Delia and I loved reading all the poems! Well done, everyone, and roll on Halloween!
ReplyDelete