A Ghoul's Feast for Few

Pumpkin spice, chopped nuts, and fruity rum,
Mulled apple cider and an overripe plum
Pies in the oven, cold fritters on the counter
What other deliciousness can we encounter?

In fly the witches, from East and then West
To pick, poke, and choose of which they like best
Then climb the goblins in through the windows
Sucking and snorting and smelling their toes

The crones with their schemes, their evil plots
They share just one eyeball to gaze in the pots
And werewolves unwelcome, howl to the moon
Where are the warlocks? I hope they come soon!

The ale has been drunken, the cider has too
Baked goods have been eaten, and so has a shoe
It's All Hallow's Eve for at least one more hour
But we all fall asleep, nothing more to devour