Hot sweat rolls down beneath the big rubber mask,
Filling our bags with the most candy is the hand at task.
There’s a lady next to Mudd’s House, I’ve been told,
Instead of candy she’s giving out quarters - good as gold!
Everyone! Beware of Honey at 930 Hoyt Street,
She’ll scare your socks off before you even ask for a treat!
Then down a couple of blocks to the convent to scare the nuns,
Hoping they can’t figure out who we are is half the fun.
Then it’s time to go home and trade and sort the candy,
Our drawers in the 2nd living room would keep it handy.
Halloween in the 50’s in Saginaw, Michigan, I know…
Was the most fun anywhere and such a long, long time ago.
1 comment:
Good Lord! I'm going to have to visit your blog more often. I can't keep up with my prolific sister.
I love the poem. It brought back memories of stepping on ghost sheets and tearing them, getting candy stolen, and finding out someone put poop on Honey's doorstep.
Hey! That's why I don't really like this holiday - I only have bad memories of it!!!!
Love you!
Jane
Post a Comment