The ghost of you comes around,
This time of year,
To hear the sounds of whispering leaves,
Heralding that your presence is near,
Comforting the scent carried on the breeze,
A natural fragrance that you are here,
In a woodland copse a mother natures spirit true,
With trees and plants,
Where animals dwell,
Witches gather to cast their spells,
Ghost and Ghouls will appear,
A trick or treat will catch an eye,
Until the dawn will break the line,
Then pumpkins rot with open eyes,
A sign of the night that has passed by,
When all is left is that memory made,
But is it real or has imagination taken place,