Halloween Poetry

 

The website of The Academy of American Poets has a special section devoted to Halloween. It features poems about ghosts, haunted houses, vampires, and the underworld. It even includes suggestions for poet costumes.

Ghosts 

Haunted Houses  

Vampires 

The Underworld 

Poet Costumes



Here are two poems to share on Halloween--one from William Shakespeare and one from my friend, children's poet David McCord.

Macbeth, Act IV, Scene I [Round about the cauldron go]
by William Shakespeare
The three witches, casting a spell   Round about the cauldron go;   In the poison’d entrails throw.   Toad, that under cold stone    Days and nights hast thirty one   Swelter’d venom sleeping got,   Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot.          Double, double toil and trouble;      Fire burn and cauldron bubble.     Fillet of a fenny snake,   In the cauldron boil and bake;   Eye of newt, and toe of frog,   Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,   Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,   Lizard’s leg, and howlet’s wing,   For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.          Double, double toil and trouble;        Fire burn and cauldron bubble.    Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,             Witches’ mummy, maw and gulf         Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark,               Root of hemlock digg’d i’ the dark,    Liver of blaspheming Jew,      Gall of goat, and slips of yew              Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse,             Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips,           Finger of birth-strangled babe               Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,    Make the gruel thick and slab:             Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,           For the ingredients of our cauldron.        Double, double toil and trouble;        Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

********************

 

Mr. Macklin's Jack O'Lantern
by David McCord
Mr. Macklin takes his knife And carves the yellow pumpkin face: Three holes bring eyes and nose to life, The mouth has thirteen teeth in place. Then Mr. Macklin just for fun Transfers the corn-cob pipe from his Wry mouth to Jack's, and everyone Dies laughing! O what fun it is Till Mr. Macklin draws the shade And lights the candle in Jack's skull.   You can read the rest of the poem here.   ********************   Irene Latham has the Poetry Friday Roundup at Live Your Poem...