Under the moon so silver and bright,

Clue, the black kitten, crept through the night.

Leaves went crunch, pumpkins said boo!

But nothing could scare little Clue!

She followed the glow of a candlelight gleam,

Past giggling ghosts in a candy-filled dream.

At last she found a treat bowl's hue,

It read: "For brave little kittens, too!"

Clue took a nibble and gave a soft purr,

Curled by the fire-the night was a blur.

Halloween magic, cozy and new,

All in a night's work for clever Clue! 

By David W. Connor.
Published: October 15th, 2025

Under the moon so round and bright,

Clue crept out into the night.

Pumpkins grinned in orange rows,

Their candlelight made cozy glows.

She hopped through leaves that whispered "shh,"

Past giggling ghosts that fluttered. "Boo!"

One ghost spun circles 'round her tail,

Another giggled, pale, and frail.

The pumpkins hummed a pumpkin tune,

And danced beneath the laughing moon.

Clue gave a purr, a twirl, a leap

Her paws made patterns soft and deep.

Through haunted air and failing leaves,

She played till morning kissed the eaves.

And when the sun began to peep,

She curled in the pumpkins to fall asleep.

Now every year, when night grows cold,

And stories of Halloween are told,

They say the ghosts still softly bop,

With Clue the kitten, who loves to hop! 

By David W. Connor.
Published: October 16th, 2025

Under Halloween lights that simmered and spun,

Clue the Kitten leapt for fun.

Past pumpkins carved with spooky smiles,

She prowled through shadows and haunted miles.

A cackle sharp, a witch's cry,

Came swooping low across the sky!

But Clue was quick, her tail a whip,

She leapt and gave a brook and flip!

Through crunchy leaves and candlelight,

She chased those monsters through the night.

Her eyes like lanterns, orange and wide,

Her paws went pat! On the pumpkins slide!

The goblins laughed, the ghosts all twirled,

As Clue went dashing 'round the world.

A hero small, but brave and bright,

Who kept the spooks in check that night.

So if you hear a playful mew,

When Halloween winds whistle through.

Don't be afraid - it's just our friend,

Clue the Kitten, on the hunt again.

By David W. Connor.
Published: October 17th, 2025

In a quiet autumn parlor, soft and still,

Little Clue crept up the windowsill.

Her whiskers twitched, her eyes did gleam,

Tonight, she'd chase a candy dream.

Across the tiles, a sugary trail,

Gold and orange, so sweet and frail.

Candy corn scattered, one by one

A mystery hunt had just begun!

She stalked the sweets with silent grace,

A Candy thief in striped-socked pace.

Each pounce was soft, each leap was keen,

A tiny hunter-Halloween queen!

Under the table, what did she find?

A candy corn hiding, cheeky and kind!

She batted it twice, then gave a mew,

As if to say, "The case is through!"

With tail held high and mission done,

Clue curled up where the sweets begun.

Dreaming of moonlight, soft and worn

And her brave hunt for candy corn

By David W. Connor.
Published: October 18th, 2025

The clock strikes twelve, the moon hangs low,

Its silver light begins to glow.

The pumpkins grin with candle eyes,

And shadows dance 'neath autumn skies.

A ghost drifts by one silent breeze,

It hums through branches, rattles leaves.

A witch sweeps past with wicked cackle,

Her broomstick trailing dusk and crackle.

But deep beneath the window's gleam

Where soft sheets hold a pumpkin dream.

Clue the Kitten curls her paw,

And snores a tiny, perfect rawr.

The goblins tiptoe down the lane,

They peek inside but all in vain.

For though the world is wild and deep,

Clue stays wrapped in cozy sleep.

No trick, no spell, no ghostly trap,

Could wake her Monday midnight nap.

The wolves may howl, the night may creep,

But Clue just dreams and softly sleeps.

By David W. Connor.

Published: October 20th, 2025

Dust and moonlight, cracked wood beams,

Clue prowls where the ceiling dreams.

A candle flickers old and thin,

Somthing in the air within.

Chalk lines drawn, soft paw prints trace,

Clue mews once in the hollow space.

Pages flutter, words half known,

Whispers hum through skin and bone.

A bell, a flame, a shadowed tune,

She dances beneath the harvest moon.

Theater turns thick, the boards all creak,

A voice below begins to speak.

"Meow," she says, her only spell,

The attic blooms with candle smell.

Eyes like lanterns, wide and bright,

She calls the spirits of the night.

Silence now, circles still,

Only Clue upon the sill.

Tail curled, round her, calm serene,

Was it her... of Halloween?

By David W. Connor
Published: October 21st, 2025