Wizard, witchie, ghostie, ghoulie,
goblin at my door.
There's something in these maskèd horrors
I have seen before.
There's something in your wolfish howling,
some hint of impish glee
that you can send a surge of shivers
down the back of me.
Specters, phantoms, apparitions,
bats across the moon.
Weren't you playing in the yard
just today at noon?
And now you stand all grizzle-headed,
daubed in goo and cream,
like a nightmare from the mist,
hoping for my scream.
What's this? A twinkle from a goblin eye?
A giggle from a ghoul?
It's YOU in Mama's makeup!
I've seen you skip by to school.
Wizard, witchie, ghostie, ghoulie,
goblin on the prowl,
I note your gladsome gurgle
from my vigil o'er the bowl.
A host of whispering footsteps,
sacks rustling down the street.
Beware the ransomed doorbell!
The goblins want a treat!
Come a-haunting, Darling.
Leave your worm-riddled, mouldered bed
and dance with me
out where the savage wind is snarling
through the barren branches dead.
Come a-haunting, Darling.
Oh, you poor and wispy wraith;
see how your peeling dry-cold skin
flaps about your bonèd gnarling,
hangs shredded on your once loved face.
Come a-haunting, Darling.
Stalk with me the tattered mist.
With all your ghouly, ghastly talent,
fright with me some sleepy carling
who dreams of milkmaids blushed and kissed.
Come a-haunting, Darling.
I'll sit me down upon your stone;
twine your decaying arms with mine
and join me on this midnight marling,
while the wintry wind is whistling
through your rattled bones.
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