VERY SUPERSTITIOUS… A POEM BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

SUPERSTITIONS.

A POEM BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

Don’t walk under ladders

As far as you’re able

Whatever you do, keep

New shoes off the table

Spilled salt from the shaker

Goes over the shoulder

Saluting the magpie

Assures growing older

Don’t open umbrellas

While still in the house

It’s unlucky for you and

Could be for your spouse

Don’t hang a horse-shoe

With ends pointing down

The luck will run out

And you’ll look like a clown

Black cat on the road?

Hurry out of its way

And don’t say ‘good luck’

To a friend in a play

When you’re inside the theatre;

It’s rotten bad luck

Let’s hope when the chandelier

Falls, they can duck

You do have to live, though,

And not in a bubble

But, whatever you do, don’t

Set eyes on your double

Be third on a match

See the Number Thirteen

Or a looking-glass break

‘Cause your end won’t be clean

When rejoicing with friends

At the Christening feast

Check the scalp of the child for

The Sign of the Beast

Three small Number Sixes

There, under the hair

But it’s best for mankind if

You don’t find it there

Don’t kill a ladybug

Under your nose

And pretend not to notice

That murder of crows

You’re best to do nothing

Considered bad luck

Though that leaves doing nothing;

Goodnight and good luck!

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