My next door neighbor is a witch,
And she lives way down in a ditch.
Her clothing is a little strange,
Because she never wants to change.
She has a black robe and a black hat,
Green skin and a smelly black cat.
A big fat wart grows on her nose,
And seventeen pimples on her toes.

But...her food is EVEN worse,
Because she eats it course by course.
Her first course is seven dead bats,
Laid on top of seven rats.
Then she has twenty flies
With lots and lots of llama eyes.
Her main course is a horrible soup,
Because it's made with doggie poop.
But worst of all is her dessert.
It's little children rolled in dirt.

Last night she had a witch's feast
And turned into a greedy beast.
I think she cooked my best friend Tilly
And ate her with some peas and broccoli.

- by Samiya Vallee

There was a Young Person of Crete,
Whose toilette was far from complete;
She dressed in a sack,
Spickle-speckled with black,
That ombliferous person of Crete.

There was a Young Lady of Norway,
Who casually sat on a doorway;
When the door squeezed her flat,
She exclaimed, 'What of that?'
This courageous Young Lady of Norway.

Roses are red, violets are blue,
White wine costs less than a dinner for two.

The incredible Wizard of Oz,
Retired from his business becoz.
Due to up-to-date science,
To most of his clients,
He wasn't the Wizard he woz.

A crossword compiler named Moss,
Who found himself quite at a loss.
When asked, Why so blue?
Said, I haven’t a clue
I’m 2 Down to put 1 Across.

There was an Old Man of the East,
Who gave all his children a feast;
But they all ate so much
And their conduct was such
That it killed that Old Man of the East.

I don’t have a controller,
And I don’t have a screen,
I don’t need to be plugged in,
I’m not grey and green.
I can’t make sound effects,
Or visuals that are fantastic,
You can’t put me on a shelf,
Because I’m not made of plastic.
However, I do have curves,
Will keep you entertained all the same,
You can’t insert a disc,
But we can make our own little game.
(Sarah Allen)

There once was a hunter named Frawley
Who lived in a shack, outside Raleigh.
His dog, funny but true,
Would only hunt honeydew.
The dog was a true melon collie.

(William Robinson)

You may look a little older,
Sadly youth doesn't come cheap,
So skip all those Botox parties,
And just get your beauty sleep.

Be glad you're young at heart,
And still look as good as gold,
Too bad you're not a millionaire,
And can't put your looks on hold.

(Kevin Nishmas)

I like kittens, YEAH!
They are really fluffy, YEAH!
OMG KITTENS.

The was a Young Lady of Bute,
Who played on a silver-gilt flute;
She played several jigs,
To her uncle's white pigs,
That amusing Young Lady of Bute.

Starts off in the morning, wakes up at six,
Grooms itself using its tongue and licks.
I give it breakfast with a friendly pat.
That's the daily morning of my cat.

Returns for lunch at one o' clock.
Eats milk rice and then goes for a walk.
Sometimes even hunts and catches a rat.
That's the daily afternoon of my cat.

Naps after lunch outside my door.
Sleeps so deeply, perhaps even snores.
Doesn't like the ground; it prefers a mat.
That's the daily evening of my cat.

Wakes up refreshed and comes for dinner.
Does it eat too much? Shouldn't it be thinner?
Eats and sleeps - hope it doesn't get fat.
That's the daily night of my cat.

(M. Tarun Prasad)

Wooden door; wide and creaky.
Sculking cat; snide and sneaky.
Skeletons; cold and clanky.
Madame Witch; old and cranky.
Ancient paintings; strange and spooky.
Watching eyes; crazed and looky.
Blackest bat; fast and flappy.
Venus Flytrap; mighty snappy.
Wailing ghosts; always moany.
Piano playing on its owny.
Time to go! Scream and shouty!
Read the sign – ‘No Way Out-y!’

- Julie Anna Douglas

Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!
How I wonder what you're at!
Up above the world you fly,
Like a teatray in the sky.
(Lewis Carroll)

Roses are red
I have a phone
Nobody texts me
Forever Alone.

A place under Government
Was all that Paddy wanted.
He married soon a scolding wife,
And thus his wish was granted.

(Anonymous)

There was an Old Man of Aôsta,
Who possessed a large cow, but he lost her;
But they said, 'Don't you see
She has rushed up a tree?
You invidious Old Man of Aôsta!'

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I can’t believe,
You’re a monkey too

A man was once offended
By a pun writing contest he entered
He submitted ten
Sure that one would win
But alas no pun in ten did.

There was a Young Lady whose eyes,
Were unique as to colour and size;
When she opened them wide,
People all turned aside,
And started away in surprise.

If you feel cold
I can warm you up
If you are sad
I can cheer you up
If you are hungry
We can share an egg cup
But if you need money
Sorry, I have to shut up.

(Unknown)

How to spell the potato has tried
Many minds, sometimes mine, I’ll confide.
Though it may have an eye,
There’s no E – don’t ask why!
Not until it’s been baked, boiled or fried.

On Halloween night in the year 1804
Costumed as a witch, I knocked on a door
Now it's plain to see
A spell was cast on me
I became a frog, hopping on the floor

Years of Hallowed nights had all passed by
I was growing weary but had to try
to find a Prince to kiss
and the spell I could dis
Not one of the snooty royals would comply

I once sought the lips of a Prince Charming
Until fat frogs appeared to be swarming
All reaching for my lips
Such an apolcalypse
It was disgusting and quite alarming

In 1942 I trick-Or-Treated with Prince Chris
Who refused to smooch. Ah, I reminisce
So, I remained a frog
In a swamp, on a log
Because Chris said he was really a 'miss'

Halloween 2022, and what am I to do?
Over a century I've been sad and blue
A Prince to touch my lips
To stroke my curvy hips
Is there a man who'll kiss me among you?

- by Jenna Logan

Pepperoni is red, cheese is food
I like pizza
How about you?

(Justin Worthy)

Rattle-skattle skeletons
clitter-clack each bone
Shrieksome banshees circle
and werewolves howl and moan.
Sh-sh-shake and shiver spectres
weeshly whisk along the halls
while plumptious orange pumpkins
throw their shadows on the walls.
Double-trouble witchy twins
are cooking up commotion
with rosy poison apples
bib-bobbing in their potion.
Black cats hide in shadows
with topaz eyes ashine
whilst Mummies gently moulder
in the cellar with the wine.
SCRITCH SCRITCH SCRATCH! and RAT-A-TAT!
Zoiks! Zombies — in the street!
Halloweenies here to party —
and cackling:
TRICK OR TREAT!

- Sarah Ziman

Roses are red,
I’m going to bed.

"Dust"

The grey dust runs on the ground like a mouse,
Over the doorstep and into the house,
Under the bedsteads and tables and chairs,
Up to the rooms at the top of the stairs,
Down to the cellar, across the brick floor-
There! It is off again by the back door!
Never a mousetrap can catch the grey mouse
Who keeps the brooms busy all over the house!

– P. A. Ropess

Is everything wrong?
Are you the only one right?
Time to see a shrink.

"Don’t Be Silly"

Are there bugs that live on the moon?
Can July come before June?
Can the sun ever feel cold?
“Don’t be silly” I’m often told.

Why can’t we live under the sea?
The creatures there seem so happy.
Why does cheese look like gold?
“Don’t be silly” I’m often told.

So why are things the way they are?
Has it always been, right from the start?
Will Mickey Mouse ever get old?
“Don’t be silly” I’m often told.

So in good time I know I’ll grow,
And I will learn, this I know.
I’ll ask my questions and be bold,
“And that’s not silly” I’ll be told.

– Dave Moran

There was an Old Lady of Prague,
Whose language was horribly vague;
When they said, 'Are these caps?'
She answered, 'Perhaps!'
That oracular Lady of Prague.

There was an Old Person of Tring,
Who embellished his nose with a ring;
Ha gazed at the moon
Every evening in June,
That ecstatic Old Person in Tring.

Roses are brown
Violets are brown
Who crapped in my garden?

Remember the city,
Remember the town,
Remember the s/he who ruined your birthday card.
By writing inside upside down!

Thanksgiving is a day to be grateful,
Not a day to be grumpy or hateful.
But a burnt pumpkin pie,
And a turkey that's dry,
Might make it hard to be elateful.

- Kim Merryman

My eyes are full of tears
That they can see no more
I wish you were here
To chop these onions for me.

(Unknown)

Please wine me and dine me,
Please show me a good time,
After all, I’m a lady,
And I even can rhyme!

You're old enough to know, my son,
It's really awfully rude
If someone speaks when both his cheeks
Are jammed and crammed with food.
Your mother asked you how you liked
the onions in the stew.
You stuffed your mouth with raisin bread
And mumbled, "Vewee goo."

Then when she asked you what you said,
You took a drink of milk,
And all that we could understand
Was, "Uggle gluggle skwilk."

And now you're asking me if you
Can have more lemon Jell-O.
Please listen carefully, "Yes, ifoo
Arstilla ungwy fello."

(Martin Gardner)

Roses are red,
Relationships are tough,
The reason I love you,
Is we hate the same stuff.

Girl sat on a swing.
Trying to sing a song for god.
Missing him, not me.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
But I wouldn’t know,
I don’t get them from you.

There was an Old Person of Anerley,
Whose conduct was strange and unmannerly;
He rushed down the Strand
With a pig in each hand,
But returned in the evening to Anerley.

Five syllables here.
Seven more syllables here.
Are you happy now?

There was an Old Man of Nepaul,
From his horse had a terrible fall;
But, though split quite in two,
By some very strong glue,
They mended that Man of Nepaul.

There was a very cautious man
Who never laughed or played
He never risked, he never tried,
He never sang or prayed.
And when he one day passed away,
His insurance was denied,
For since he never really lived,
They claimed he never really died.

Once I visited France,
And learned a new, awesome dance.
I twirled,
And I swirled,
And then I lost my pants.

"The Legs Are Last To Go"

Aunt Ruthie used to sing and dance
a jolly way to find romance
she said one thing that you should know

“The legs are last to go”
“The legs are last to go”

She’d sing her praises right out loud
and wear her stockings high and proud
she still had much that she could show

The legs are last to go

The years roll by and beauty fades
and yet her gams, she still parades
she’s 83 and don’t cha know
her legs were last to go

Her legs were last to go.


– Mike Gentile

You, me, we
Two souls stuck together, like a piece of meat
You, me, us
My love shines bright for you, like a big yellow bus
You, me, us two
My love for you can be smelled for miles
Like an old stinky shoe

(Anonymous)

Take me down to Hai-
ku City where the grass is
green, and the dammit.

World is vast and wide.
So much out there to explore.
Right now, let's eat lunch.