The Headless Horseman

'Twas the night before Halloween
and ghosts were yet unseen
as Sir Belvedere rode upon the moor
returning from a recent war
covered in blood and gore
no Nobel Peace Prize for him
just more weightlifts down at the gym
but first he'll stop at the inn.

"Some pumpkin soup!" he said with glee
as he ate some jam from the jamboree.
I'm afraid the king gets the soup
and you are but a dupe
said the barmaid with nice knockers
amid the chat of patron talkers.

Oh merde! oh merde!
said the French chef
whose hair was parted down the clef
no pumpkins left in the kitchen
and the king's stomach is a-twitchin'.

Sir Belvedere my lovely dear!
The barmaid raised her skirts,
I hope you're not queer
but you'll get a better look
if you huff it down to the brook
and a mighty pumpkin you do took
and bring it back here.

Sir Belvedere leapt upon his horse,
I'll be back before the main course
and galloped on down to the brook
and a mighty pumpkin he did took
and brought it back to the cook.

But as he handed it to Alphonse
he slipped on some twisted prawns
and with a prance in his pants
the pumpkin smashed like a crash dance.

You fool! Said Alphonse, I'm ruined
I'll end up a dry pruned
my head upon the king's castle gate
such will be my dreadful fate.

Why lose your head, Alphonse dear?
The barmaid smiled
a look so wild
she flashed her beaver
and raised the cleaver
and cut off the head of Sir Belvedere.

The knight's head was served in the king's pumpkin soup
head of a knight- such a dupe!
and as the chickens leave the coop
they chirp and slirp
at the pumpkin remains
while a new Headless Horseman
grabs the horse's reins.


-The Headless Horseman
a Halloween poem
written by Dracul Van Helsing
Friday October 30th, 2009