Artistic Halloween

By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)







The grass still green,
the fodder brown,
a croaker sack for a wrap,
smiling pumpkin for a head.


Tall spiny trees
the background
and an old split rail fence
I do see.


An artistic Halloween
And it does not
Shivers cause,
But makes me smile and grin.


I stand and look,
Watch and study,
As my smile grows broader,
As it I do enjoy.


But alas the bell does ring
And now I must go home,
Will I see him round the corner,
And will his smile have gone away?









 


Happy Jack-O-Lantern

By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)





“Mommie, oh mommie, lets make a scary Halloween man, please mommie, oh please,” Jack and Jill said to their mother. They had come to the country to spend the weekend with Grandma McCabe.

The mother frowned and looked at her two children, “No, I must go into town and see someone, maybe tomorrow if we have time.”

Their jaws did drop and their glee fleetly was gone.

Mother was soon gone. Her important meeting was with two old girl friends.

“Come here if you would, let's look at some pictures,” Grandma McCabe said to her two grands. “Lets find a neat picture and see what we can do.” She spoke with her grandmotherly charm and a big smile.

As the two children got into the Country Living magazine Grandma went out on the back porch and brought in a good-size pumpkin. The children looked up.

“This is Fred Pumpkin, and he says he would like to become your jack-o-lantern. That is as soon as you two can decide on a face,” she added.

The two children suddenly forgot their glumness and doldrums.

“This one, the scary one,” Jack said as he pointed to the page of prize winning faces.

“No, Jack, no. This one, a happy jack O lantern,” Jill suggested.

Grandma, not wanting a fuss or to take sides placed two blank sheets of paper on the table and two pencils. “Close the magazine and each of you draw yours. Then we will see what we can do.”

Five minutes went by, then ten, and the erasers were becoming nubs. Grandma handed the two a ginger cookie she had baked and sat down. “Now let’s see what we can do at making a composite since we only have one pumpkin.

“Grandma, I could carve mine on one side and Jill could carve hers on the other side,” the small boy suggested. But Grandma asked whose side would face the road so people could see it.

Half an hour later, on a thin sheet of paper, was a goofy looking face. “He isn’t too scary, but he is neat,” Jack said.

“Oh, I think him dear,” Jill added. The face was drawn on the pumpkin and the three slowly and with not too many miscues had Fred carved. Grandma put a candle inside and then the curtains and shades were drawn. They all three were beaming.

“Where do we put him, where will Fred be so everyone can see him?” Grandma asked. The front porch? No, the fence down next to the road were Jack and Jill’s suggestions.

“Get your coats and let’s explore a home for Fred,” Grandma said.

The lawn on the East side of the house looked neat and the tall thin pines looked eerie. Soon Grandma’s old truck was employed to haul a pile of fodder for Fred a body. It was placed around an old gate post with Fred’s head resting on the top of the post. The children were running and playing, as happy as they could be while they stood and looked at their masterpiece. Fred the ghoul of the lane, smiling Fred. “Grandma, Fred needs a coat or jacket,” Jill said.

“Well, let’s find Fred a coat,” Grandma said.

Soon Jack came running with an old croaker sack, “How about this Grandma, how about this?”

The sack was split and Jack had a wrap. Grandma brought out an extension cord and a small light was placed in Fred so he would light up. By the time Fred was finished, the three were tired and the shadows were growing long. Finally they went inside to cook supper.

When their mother returned she looked at Fred and shrugged. She was thinking about Everett Classen, with whom she was going to dinner with that night. Mother had ideas of a new husband, not of Fred the jack-O-lantern, and it did not bother the children.

As soon as supper was over and things were cleaned up, the three got their coats, went out, and turned on the light. They walked up the road to view him. As I said Grandma was quite an artistic lady so she had put a small flood light out front to light up Fred so he could be seen.

The next morning, the last day of October, Fred’s picture was on the front page of the newspaper, with a write-up about Jack and Jill who had made him. And it was reported that Fred actually came to life when certain young people were around him. I don’t know about that but I would not doubt it for Grandma was a special person.








 


Pumpkin Head

By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)





Scarecrow was ever so forlorn
He felt that he had no brain
Headless horseman tossed a pumpkin
At that man Ichabod Crane


Scarecrow grabbed it up so quickly
Traded it out for his head
So instead of little gray cells
He had pumpkin seeds instead









 


Under The Halloween Moon

By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)





When I get to his door,
I know he won't ignore
The way that I look tonight.


All through the week,
His attention I seek.
But something just isn't right.


I know he will swoon,
Under the Halloween moon
And his heart will surely take flight.


Through snow and through hail,
I deliver his mail.
I was just an everyday sight.


But now he will SEE me!
I hope he won't flee me.
Just kiss me with all of his might.


For now, I look strange,
But not out of his range.
I want the vampire guy to BITE









 


Cinderpumpkin

By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)





Well, here I am - all alone and lonely in the middle of nothing. Nothing I call it because the land belongs to my wicked stepmother, Mrs. Jack-O-Lantern. She dressed her own daughters with smiles and filled with lights, orange and gold prints and everything. But me - oh, no, - me she had to doll up in burlap, just for an insult. "Now run out there, Cinder," she said. "Pumpy and Mumpy will say hello for you at the ball. I need you, now, to watch over the house and entertain the trick or treaters." I feel like dirt! How wicked, how cruel, to mock me in such a way! But wait, I see a horse costume. Oh, how suave he is, how debonair, and he has noticed me. How ashamed am I here alone. He’s coming, he’s trotting this way, and he is smiling the most glorious smile I have ever seen. "What is your name, you beautiful lady?" Cinderpumpkin, I say blushing the most brilliant orange. "I notice you are filled with hay, and covered with burlap, and to me there is nothing more sensual, more real, more enticing," and on and on he went. Well, I have to tell the truth now, this horse was no ordinary horse, for he is the prince charming who turned into a horse after all the family and I turned into a pumpkins with the coach after the last ball. Prince Charming is snickering a little, tossing his nose in a way that I land on his back, and now we’re galloping off in the autumn sunset to live happily ever afterwards.

And the Jack-O-Lantern family? Well, they hooked up with someone with they saw a red costume with horns and a forked tail and have never been seen again. Happy Hallowe’en!








 


Cornfield Taffeta

By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)





Her skirt was cornfield taffeta,
Her wrap was of gunny-sack design,
She stood in the field, she rustled in the wind,
So what if she couldn't talk? She could mime.


Little field mice scurried around her feet,
Darting here and there, giving her fits.
She was the only shock in the neighborhood,
And dang her legs itched.


When the orange moon rose and started across the sky,
She smoothed her skirt and turned up her smile,
It was Halloween Night! It was HER night.
She was dressed for the occasion, cornfield taffeta style.









 

 

 

 



Watch these pages for more of these pages.
In the meantime, click the links below for
poems and stories by our other authors.


Fall Garden

Commitment To Change

Decisions, Decisions

A Ghostly Experience

Hand in Hand

Halloween! (By 10 authors)

The Pumpkin Patch Kitten

In Silence

Pumpkins (By 10 authors)





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