By day the bat is cousin to the mouse.
He likes the attic of an aging house.
His fingers make a hat about his head.
His pulse beat is so slow we think him dead.
He loops in crazy figures half the night
Among the trees that face the corner light.
But when he brushes up against a screen,
We are afraid of what what our eyes have seen:
For something is amiss or out of place
When mice with wings can wear a human face.
-by Theodore Roethke, from the book The Haunted House and Other Spooky Poems and Tales by Gladys Schwarcz and Vic Cume
Said the shark to the Flying Fish over the phone: “Will you join me tonight? I am dining alone. Let me order a nice little dinner for two! And come as you are, in your shimmering blue.”
Said the Flying Fish: “Fancy remembering me, And the dress I wore at Porpoises’ tea!”
“How could I forget?” said the Shark in his guile: “I expect you at eight!” and rang off with a smile.
She has powdered her nose; she has put on her things; She is off with one flap of her luminous wings. O little one, lovely, light-hearted and vain. The Moon will not shine on your beauty again!
-by E.V. Rieu, taken from the book The Haunted House and Other Spooky Poems and Tales by Gladys Schwarcz and Vic Crume.