Post by DianaDeBolt on Jul 9, 2022 10:02:29 GMT -5
The Ghost Who Can Only Goo
By Diana DeBolt
Archie B. Gloom has until the full moon
Of Halloween night to show off his talent at fright.
His family is famous with frights galore
But Archie’s scares are nothing to adore.
He wants a talent for which to boast
Not to be a jittery, frightened scaredy-ghost
With every creak, rattle, or boo
Archie B. Gloom can only goo.
An annoying tangled up excess
Of slimy ectoplasmic mess.
[When Archie gets scared, he leaves behind ectoplasmic slime]
Mama’s fright is creepy cuisine
To frighten trick-or-treaters on Halloween.
Wiggly-jiggly, mysterious cakes,
stinky, swampy, mint-chocolate shakes,
And candy apples on boney sticks.
Her treats always have the best tricks.
[halloween themed surprises within each treat]
“I’ll give creepy cooking a try,” Archie decides.
He gathers ingredients for a graveyard cake
And hums spooky tunes while he bakes.
Into a cauldron he grates some cheese
Jumping spiders leap from the fondue
Archie B. Gloom can only goo.
An annoying tangled up excess
Of slimy, sticky ectoplasmic mess.
The epic startle is Papa’s fright.
Especially in the dark of the night.
He hides behind curtains in the family chateau.
Leaps out of closets, or stretches from a shadow.
With a loud and creepy cackle
He can make anyone’s bones rattle.
“I’ll give startles a try,” Archie decides.
Under the stairs, Archie goes
Hunkering down in the shadows.
Archie B. Gloom can only goo.
An annoying tangled up excess
Of slimy, sticky ectoplasmic mess.
Sister Allie’s fright is mixing potions
like frog’s breath burps and green skin lotions
“I’ll give potions a try,” Archie decides.
He gathers ingredients for a nosewort brew
A spoonful of snot, a cup of leftover of beetle stew.
His potion isn’t a fright or a boo
Archie B. Gloom can only goo.
An annoying tangled up excess
Of slimy, sticky ectoplasmic mess.
“I’m not good enough,” Archie insists.
“I’ll always be bad at this fright business.
A ghost is supposed to boo
But all I can do is goo.”
Archie B. Gloom plops to the floor
He doesn’t want to try anymore.
But Archie notices something new
There’s a pattern in all of that goo
He follows the trail around the chateau
Where it twists and turns and glows with gusto
In every room where Archie tried to boo
Are Halloween pictures made out of his goo.
The kitchen’s a graveyard with a swarm of bats
The stairs are crawling with hissing cats
A slimy, sticky, wonderful mess
Painted with Archie’s ectoplasmic creativeness.
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By Diana DeBolt
Archie B. Gloom has until the full moon
Of Halloween night to show off his talent at fright.
His family is famous with frights galore
But Archie’s scares are nothing to adore.
He wants a talent for which to boast
Not to be a jittery, frightened scaredy-ghost
With every creak, rattle, or boo
Archie B. Gloom can only goo.
An annoying tangled up excess
Of slimy ectoplasmic mess.
[When Archie gets scared, he leaves behind ectoplasmic slime]
Mama’s fright is creepy cuisine
To frighten trick-or-treaters on Halloween.
Wiggly-jiggly, mysterious cakes,
stinky, swampy, mint-chocolate shakes,
And candy apples on boney sticks.
Her treats always have the best tricks.
[halloween themed surprises within each treat]
“I’ll give creepy cooking a try,” Archie decides.
He gathers ingredients for a graveyard cake
And hums spooky tunes while he bakes.
Into a cauldron he grates some cheese
Jumping spiders leap from the fondue
Archie B. Gloom can only goo.
An annoying tangled up excess
Of slimy, sticky ectoplasmic mess.
The epic startle is Papa’s fright.
Especially in the dark of the night.
He hides behind curtains in the family chateau.
Leaps out of closets, or stretches from a shadow.
With a loud and creepy cackle
He can make anyone’s bones rattle.
“I’ll give startles a try,” Archie decides.
Under the stairs, Archie goes
Hunkering down in the shadows.
Archie B. Gloom can only goo.
An annoying tangled up excess
Of slimy, sticky ectoplasmic mess.
Sister Allie’s fright is mixing potions
like frog’s breath burps and green skin lotions
“I’ll give potions a try,” Archie decides.
He gathers ingredients for a nosewort brew
A spoonful of snot, a cup of leftover of beetle stew.
His potion isn’t a fright or a boo
Archie B. Gloom can only goo.
An annoying tangled up excess
Of slimy, sticky ectoplasmic mess.
“I’m not good enough,” Archie insists.
“I’ll always be bad at this fright business.
A ghost is supposed to boo
But all I can do is goo.”
Archie B. Gloom plops to the floor
He doesn’t want to try anymore.
But Archie notices something new
There’s a pattern in all of that goo
He follows the trail around the chateau
Where it twists and turns and glows with gusto
In every room where Archie tried to boo
Are Halloween pictures made out of his goo.
The kitchen’s a graveyard with a swarm of bats
The stairs are crawling with hissing cats
https://www.instagram.com/p/CO2yZMorPDJ
A slimy, sticky, wonderful mess
Painted with Archie’s ectoplasmic creativeness.
