Amidst the whispers of ancient leaves,
Where shadows dance in twilight’s breeze.
A tea party blooms under willows’ sigh,
With ghosts and goblins, ethereal ties.
Mugs that are adorned with their cups,

Memories of the past that forever last.
Gathered within the tree of weeping,
Drinking secrets from within a hallowed space.
Goblin chuckling with mischief in their eyes,

While ghosts recount stories from distant skies.
As moonlight finds its way through spectral fissures.
Tea leaves whirl in spectral waltzes.
Laughter resonates through night hours.

Below the stars eerie scenes unfolds.
The cups clink together as spirits gleam.
During this paranormal convention which is an extra-terrestrial dream.
Its branches swaying as the willow weeps,

The silent witness to the spectral street.
Where time and space entwine for aye,
In a tea party where spirits gleam.
At dawn's first light they see again,

The ghouls go back to their realms unseen.
Leaving memories of that ghostly night,
Yet beneath willow’s whispers stay.
There is no ending to this ghastly dream.

For goblins and ghosts was made this way,
Underneath the weeping willow sway.
© jaylinestarr