Host of spirit, evanescent ghost,
a necromancer’s* ancient boast.
Permissive ghouls in darkest night,
progeny of howl, demon’s delight,
yellowish specters fade from sight.
How the Jack-O’-Lantern’s gaping smile
authors tales ‘cross eerie miles.
Legions marching trick or treat,
lavish costumes on every street.
Occupants this hallowed eve,
warlock’s spell up every sleeve.
Elements of witch's brew
exacts tonight its very due;
nocturnal imps and goblins, too.
(But I don’t believe in ghosts!)
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