30/10/2024
On Halloween night, when the moon glowed bright,
A chestnut mare felt something just right.
Her hooves began to shimmer, her mane to spark,
And magic awoke in the midnight dark.
With a twist of her tail, she gave a grand snort,
And her sleek coat shifted to a velvety sort.
Gone were her hooves, now feet in boots,
She wore a tall hat and lacy black suits.
Her neigh turned to laughter, wild and free,
A witch she became, as strange as could be!
With a cackle, she hopped on a broomstick with glee,
Trading her bridle for spells and mischief spree.
Down village streets, she swept and soared,
Knocking on doors, yelling, “Trick or hoard!”
She hexed jack-o'-lanterns to glow and wink,
Made them spit candy that rained like pink ink.
Into gardens, she danced, where scarecrows stood guard,
And made them waltz ‘round the pumpkin yard.
She turned corn husks into dancing ghouls,
And toppled fences, breaking all rules.
With her mane now as wild as a midnight storm,
She brewed up potions—cauldrons warm—
Mixing oats with the glow of moon’s light,
Then turning it into cider delight.
But as dawn crept in, her mischief waned,
The magic faded, her witchcraft drained.
Back to a mare, on fields soft with dew,
The witch returned to her equine hue.
But on Halloween nights, beneath stars that glimmer,
In the moonlight’s spell, you might still see her shimmer.
A horse by day, but when shadows bloom,
A cackling witch on a broom’s swift plume.
