‘Twas the night before Samhain
And through Usher’s flat,
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a bat.
Fortunato was sealed
All snug in his wall;
Lygeia, in her tomb,
Reclined on her pall.
When out in the bone-yard
I heard a strange sound;
I thought it was Baskerville’s
Horrible hound.
The moonlight that shown
On the new-fallen snow
Revealed a small sleigh
And Edgar A. Poe;
The sad little man
Did morosely exclaim
To his eight spooky ravens
As he called them by name:
'On Blackie, on Midnight,
On Shadow and Jet,
On Tombstone, on Newgrave,
On Mortis and Debt! '
And he fiendishly laughed
As they rose toward the moon,
“Merry Halloween, all,
For tomorrow’s too soon! ”
I love this night before halloween poem. It was spooky and funny at the same time and put a smile on my face. Job well done, Mr. Morin. :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is crafty and funny, and I love how you tied Edgar Allen Poe into this. Well done!