Wednesday, October 7, 2015

WIN A SIGNED COPY OF IT'S RAINING BATS AND FROGS

The Witches are calling, “Yoo-hoo! Yoo-hoo!”




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.

Do You See a Witch?
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

13 comments:

  1. I'd love to win a copy of this cute Halloween book.

    Brew 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.







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  2. Spookadilly Stew

    Some 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!


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  3. 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. :)

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  4. Ooooo, what a great Halloween poem. Spookadilly Stew sounds delightfully frightful. :) Good luck.

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  5. The Witch

    Who 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?

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  6. Scary witch, isn't she? Good luck, Don!

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  7. Gayle, I've been in a writing funk, so thanks for the fun contest to get the coals stoked:)

    The 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!

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  8. Whoa! If Jimmy doesn't stop his bullying, he might end up as a poisoned, blind, squawking bird in a slimy storm. Great!

    Good luck, Lauri. :)

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  9. Widdershins Witch

    Don’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

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  10. Oh, no! Not a ban on creme brûlée! Very clever backwards world, Rainchains.:) Good luck!

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  11. When the Sun Goes Down in Halloween Town

    It’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.

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  12. Delia and I loved reading all the poems! Well done, everyone, and roll on Halloween!

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