Holding Halloween

Holding Halloween
Across gathered tombstones now aged grey
Some leaning as if to look.
Late afternoons slipping sun sank
Gladdening the witches of old Willowdale.
Came gripping winds of carried spirit mists
Through long black thorns that shook.
Quickly home after work and school they went
Treats were ready and would not fail.

Hampered recipes by ghoulish minds
Crept bent along in cave like places.
Many others smiled some to force a grin
Dressing doorways like coffin lids.
Over weeks of boiling, stirring and straining
Shelves filled to please all faces.
Sacrificially cleaned glowing pumpkin heads
Grinning notice of treats for kids.

Leaves by wind scratching walkways to corners
Secret creatures squirmed in a hurry.
Warmed by stove pot stews at home
Came varieties of beings to fright.
Then racing from doorways spread changing shapes
Toting various sacks in a flurry.
Those costumed conglomerates in secret states
Demanded all as they covered the night.

“Shell out shell out the witches are out”
Or “Trick or treat” they hollered all.
Grown up shadows loomed at doorways
Shuffling bag creatures then eased closer.
Great praise for some in their artful shapes
As they stood in the glow of the hall.
When asked what figure of night one was
The little voice said “A ghost sir”.

Big head skinny Roy Rogers with Batman
Ran Trigger and the Batmobile.
Three ghosts a farmer with Raggedy Anne
Chased a nurse and Little Bo Peep.
Across deep leaves dashed a Robin Hood
With Maid Marian ready to steal.
Vampire screams echoed little wolf kids
Nearing now the Mummy did creep.

Tough A&P shopping bags or pillow cases
Were the bounty bags of the bold.
They could raid much further for specialty treats
Howling directions in the wind and moon.
With dad and mom through shadows and screams
Some little one’s stepped in from the cold.
Tootsie Roll on a string from Grandma Flowers
At the end was a colored balloon.

In one dark hall the best popcorn was grabbed
From lady skeleton with a hangman’s noose.
A “real” old witch who swiveled when bent
Cast a spell with her gifting hands.
A wrong door was tricked by a Popeye who
Suffered a Grinch from a Dr. Seuss.
Sweet treasure raiders rushed the best candy apples
Knocking over three garbage cans.

Vocal extortions from now ragged tribes
Faded and scattered as the pale moon rose.
Costumes tired and some masks removed
Save the shuffle of long tired soles.
Moonlight slipped through meandering clouds
And in the glow passed a number of crows.
Old Willowdale was a hood of mysterious places
Tales were told of it’s legendary Trolls.

Willow Creek gathered mist for Trolls to hide
Circumstance then closed the door.
Costumes portioned to kitchen floors
Exciting chatter played the air.
Glorious glamorous goodies were poured
Onto tables, chairs and floor.
Everyone’s hands spread the piles about
Ran candies through fingers with flare.

There before all lay many jaw breakers
Green and purple with caramel squares.
Chocolate milk duds were rare to find
Loose smarties and little Chiclet boxes.
Peanuts in the shell woodley mumbled about
Red licorice was twisted in pairs.
Streams of black and big orange kisses
Traded licorice bits like foxes.

Little round gums gave a short chew
Chocolate chunks forbidden fore bed.
Earthen golden sponge taffy wrapped
Took days to consume by ration.
Dad’s cookies, macaroons, chocolate coins in gold
Mother served the apple instead.
Tootsie roll segments were separated
Buttered popcorn gobbled with passion.

The old Willow Theatre had Mackintosh Toffee
A secret some kept to themselves.
Double bubble gum bubble pop, Pud the cartoon
Glamorous poses with candy cigarettes.
Mysterious nickels and dimes popped up
As if placed by little elves.
Smoking licorice pipes with candy sprinkled fire
Are evenings one never forgets.

Holding Halloween’s ransacking revelry
Released elder ones to play it’s past.
To learn that re-crafting of timeless joys
Is never a waste of being.
Displaced shards of well used time
Were held treasures before being cast.
Holding Halloween or just absorbing it’s room
Allows sweet soul to what you are seeing.

Copywrite Charles Dowson October 20 2010