WICKED WEEDS

Beneath the slumbering hallowed moon
veggies dance and witches swoon. 
With sinister smirks and evil grins, 
the wicked revelry now begins... 

On this night, every 7th year,
Thirteen witches all gather here.
For, it's the time now once again 
to reap a crop of Pumpkin Men!

Planted many moons ago,
Twelve bad seeds in every row.
growing as each year is past
rotting as the spell is cast.

The ancient words have been heeded
Each witch has brought what was needed
Rare herbs, odd bits and potions too.
All the fixins for this noxious brew.

Grave Dust, Toad Spit, and Fairy Wings,
Devils tongue, pond scum and rotten things
Zombie Oil, hawthorn, and baby's breath
creeping vine, Demon wine and, the Staff of Death 

Mixed just right and stirred over flame
Chanting the magic words of Sam Hane
We are Master of the Pumpkin race
Sinister sprout, we bid you, show your face!

One by one from the ground they spring
To join the witches dancing in the ring
Henchmen to the hags of old
Now ready to do as they are told

These are wicked weeds, not mindless drones
They are the evil minions of grizzled crones.
Charged with their masters loathsome chores
They're coming your way, better lock your doors."  

--- Jan Pierce