The Witch Hour Mail.

The Witch Hour Mail

No Fear the post man came walking upon the graves
and with every ring of his bell
the grass began to sting and scream
boney finger tips scraped
beneath the mud
rattling bones began to sit up
plagues of scratching rats bustled and squirmed in hives
bubbling and boiling like wriggling maggots
pouring out of an eye hole in a skull
witchy witchy
twitchy twitchy
witchy witchy twitch
the sleeping priest of the churchyard
began to murmer in his dreams
let them rest please
let them rest in peace
rest in peace
hah!
No chance
For on this special night the postman had important work to do do do do do voodoo
out loud ping clear pearl throughout the tranquil midnight
his bike bell ringed
ping ping ping
no fears feet stepped
put put
put put
his bike wheels turned over
shoot shoot
every single grave
flattened blades
until suddenly the witching hour
all around the leafs rustled and rushed flying like hags on brooms through the night
bats wings flapped
flup flup
and the wind began to whistle and howl
screams screams screams
as in the graveyard
all the ghosts came out to prowl
they took shape
formed from beneath the earth
they rose
out of the mud
and basked underneath the waxy moon
if i had been there surrounded by lots of ghosts
late at night all alone amongst old crosses and gravestones in a churchyard
my teeth would have chattered
and i would have run like a little pig
crying wah wah wah all the way home
thankfully i was safely tucked up in bed
for in the churchyards at halloween
it is
no fear the postman that journeys to welcome home the ghosts,
no fear spoke, and this is what he said,

- hello ghosts
you are safe, we are safe, you gleam,
its a while since last ive been here
moments have passed still
theres no time like the present
i doth my cap to each of you
happy halloween, look at the moon happy hallowed ween -

he is quite the marvel that postman no fear
who delivers the letters to every single ghost each year
all in one night and always without fail
not even death can stop the witch hour mail
the witch hour mail that rides through the night
on halloween you might see
no fear the cobwebbed postman cycling his bike?

lets get back to the story at hand
where in the moon lit churchyard full of ghosts our postman stands
look there he is no fear reaching into his leather bag
he speaks again out loud after midnight
clear bold and true

- the first letter i have here is for maureen green, 1876-1914
Maureen, oh your at the back there you go my dear sweet dreams, ah whose next, lets see, Benjamin Pea, well i never nice to see you Benjamin your looking good for 203. -

Time is magic when you can travel perfectly, splitting seconds into minutes and minutes into hours
Bag empty, well right now, ittl be full again in just the shortest of whiles
No fear hops onto his bike ping ping ping and rides to the next yard, youd think his nights work would be ludicrously hard, your right it is but still he manages to deliver every single letter to every ghost, thats lots of ghosts, in just one small hour.

I have a question for you before I go,
Who is it that writes the letters to ghosts?
if you know the answer to that then hats off my friend
lets raise a toast to hallowed hallo ween
no fear the post
and the Witch Hour Mail.

Eerie cackling