At one the town's square teemed with life,
The second chime brought roil and strife,
When three rang forth the bell tower shook,
At four o'clock the devil cooked,
Five saw ashes cloud the light,
Six, the moon shone black as night,
The witch's cat shrieked loud at seven,
At eight dripped blooded rains from heaven,
Nine o'clock brings ghoulish cries,
And ten sees children's bulging eyes,
Eleven curses scour the fields,
When midnight chimes death's harvest yields,
Which leads us to the 13th hour,
Best go inside, the scene is dour!
By David Braybrooke