A Poem by Rowan Blair Colver
Tailor made to masquerade,
Spooky dance and joy en-trance,
Pumpkin light is ready and bright,
On the Halloween night across the land,
Taking turns and taking hands,
Little ones clamber into garden to gander,
At what is in store behind each closed door,
They know their lines for old time's,
Sake, yet no-one has the passion for trashin'
They're all friendly just like community,
Needs to be so seriously,
Taken and let them play their token,
Games and always remember,
In the following November,
What used to happen when someone tried slappin'
The wrong guy.