Let's go picking in the pumpkin patch.
Now we're jiggling the old gate latch.
Gate swings wide and we step inside
Pumpkins spread like an ocean tide.
You take the one like a fat balloon
I'll take the one like an orange moon.
Hike to the house in fifty paces
Then we'll carve out the pumpkin faces.
I recall the Halloween past
Some forty years ago, I think
Be grateful they have past
Behavior then was evil
Children made costumes then
Dressed in what they made
Becoming hobos, Indians, Fat men
Witches, a big baby in a diaper,
Or a squaw with her braids
Children carried an arsenal
Soap for windows
Corn for throwing
Toilet paper for trees
Eggs for combat
Dung in a paper bag
For lighting on the teachers lawn
(Of course they stomped it out)
Mischief was the claim to fame
Outhouse's were overturned
Volkswagens were set on porches
Hay was set ablaze
If a house set empty this night
It was likely to find combustion
The children of the world today
They're not so bad it seems
If you will remember then
Children now should dress
In Angel themes
© 2000, John Stewart
THE HAUNTED HOUSE
It stands neglected, silent, far from the ways of men,
A lonely little cottage beside a lonely glen;
And, dreaming there, I saw it when sunset's golden rays
Had touched it with the glory of other, sweeter days.
They say the house is haunted, and -- well, it is, I guess,
For every empty window just aches with loneliness;
With loneliness that tortures and memory that flays;
Ah, yes, the house is haunted with ghosts of other days.
The ghost of childish laughter rings on the narrow stair,
And, from a silent corner, the murmur of a prayer
Steals out, and then a love song, and then a bugle call,
And steps that do not falter along the quiet hall.
The story of the old house that stands beside the glen?
That story is forgotten by every one; but when
The house is touched and softened by sunset's golden rays,
I know that ghosts must haunt it, the ghosts of sweeter days.
Margaret E. Sangster
Horror terror fright and fear,
All these words that we may hear.
Keep inside to be let out,
Just to make us scream and shout.
Set aside for just one fright,
To bring the eve hollows night.
On all hollows eve the moon is round,
All ghosts and goblins roam the ground.
Seeking souls for later rests,
Put our fears to the tests.
Shallow moans and groans of the dead,
Spooky spectres overhead.
A witch on her broom flies the skies,
The werewolf stalks with howling cries.
My vampire freind doomed with eternal life,
Our senses shattered surviving our strife.
We carve our pumpkins and give them light,
Jackolanterns glow all through the night.
Hearing voices "Trick or Treat",
And gave them something great to eat.
Childish fun and practical jokes,
Dressing up like all sorts of blokes.
What is it about this one night,
It gives all the same sweet fright.
When the doorbell rings you answer quick,
With your candy or your trick.
To give the monsters treats galore,
For this one night they'll be at your door.
So these words exclaimed by everyone seen,
They all will tell you "Happy Holloween!!!"
© 2002, Lady Syndra
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