by Sandra Olson Liatsos
Let's go picking in the pumpkin patch.
Now we're jiggling the old gate latch.
Gate swings wide and we step inside.
Pumpkins spread like an ocean tide.
You take the one like a fat balloon.
I'll take the one like an orange moon.
Hike to the house in fifty paces.
Then we'll carve out the pumpkin faces.
I Don't Believe in Bigfoot
by Eileen Spinelli
I don't believe in Bigfoot
Or skeletons that dance.
I don't believe in werewolves
Or zombies in a trance.
I don't believe in Martians
Or ghosts in sheets of white.
I don't believe in witches who ride their brooms at night.
I don't believe in vampires
Or monsters from the sea -
And I'm hoping with my fingers crossed,
They don't believe in me.
by Douglas Florian
The bat is batty as can be.
It sleeps all day in cave and tree,
And when the sun sets in the sky,
It rises from its rest to fly.
All night this mobile mammal mugs
A myriad of flying bugs.
And after its night out on the town,
The batty bat sleeps