Ghosts On Parade
By Fay Herridge
The drums are banging
And cymbals are clanging;
The ghosts are on parade.
All up and down
The streets of town;
The ghosts are on parade.
The trumpets are blowing,
The noise is growing;
The ghosts are on parade.
All dressed in white
Such a funny sight;
The ghosts are on parade.
The dogs are howling
And cats are prowling;
While ghosts are on parade.
The pumpkins glow,
As excitement grows;
The ghosts are on parade
Sounds of running feet,
Cries of ‘Trick or Treat’ –
And ghosts are on parade.
What sights are seen
When it’s Halloween –
And ghosts are on parade.
Jacki Hopper5 years ago
I thoroughly enjoyed reading your poem Ghost Parade… Having lived across 3 cemeteries growing up…. Lol…. And have had actual eerie encounters at both Watson’s Mill and Bytown Museum…
I’ve had a poem published in Story Quilt about Bytown Museum, I look forward to reading more of your stuff, Thankyou👍👌👻🎃