An orange moon like lantern hung

O’er autumn fields no longer young

Where parchment leaves despairing clung

And cornstalk voices softly sung

In dry and ancient Druid tongue

Demeter’s requiem

 

At stealthy pace the darkness grew

In hissing wrath the night-wind blew

Close to the kitchen fire he drew

A tiny, costumed bugaboo

In livery of chintz and glue

To merriment condemned

 

“I think I’d rather stay inside”

Said he, small eyes in panic wide

“In yonder parlor I’ll abide,

A bowl of candy by my side

For to appease the ghastly tide

That floods the town tonight.”

 

As sweetly as a chapel bell

With laughter bright as asphodel

His mother weaved a calming spell

The child’s anxiety to quell,

And youthful confidence compel,

Wee courage to ignite.

 

“My only son, my darling dear,

Those marrow-freezing shrieks you hear

Are but your playmates making cheer!

For ‘pon this eve, just once a year

Roam trick-or-treaters far and near

In happy, haunting horde.

 

“That grinning demon, eyes afire?

A sculpted pumpkin to admire!

That skeleton? Just wood and wire.

Nightmarish wraith? A fraud entire!

Go now, before the night expire

And claim your sweet reward!”

 

His terror being much allayed

No more in fear of witch or shade

He donned the cape his mother made

Raised up his broomstick pirate blade

Resolved to join the weird charade

And fill his candy pot.

 

“No Halloween deserter, me!

No more a baby will I be!”

Across the threshold, one, two, three

When from behind the shrubbery

Leapt up a monster suddenly

And ate him on the spot