NIGHT OF THE LIVING DAISIES!
Because of drought, they went without.
The dirt was dead and dried.
Unwatered ground, their petals browned
until the daisies died.
And dry and hot, we let them rot
to mounds of moldered green.
But baked and burned, the buds returned
the night of Halloween.
The flower bed of planted dead
began to moan of thirst.
For every singe, they’d take revenge
on those who’d left them cursed.
You might expect a nibbled neck
from Dracula’s pursuits,
but what to do when chasing you
are sapless stems and roots?
Do you suppose the garden hose
could quench and quell the curse?
We did as well, but sad to tell:
it only made it worse.
The zombie blooms proclaimed our dooms
then turned the hose on us.
Then satisfied, again they died,
no further frightful fuss.
And that is why, when weather’s dry,
make sure to water plants,
or they’ll pursue and water YOU
the night the dead can dance.