He ran out of work and rushed to the store.
Then sped to his home and shot through his door.
With pumpkins and candy and black cardboard cats.
With cornstalks and devils and tiny witch hats.
He strung purple lights and soft orange crepe.
He hung paper bats with two-sided tape.
He gutted the pumpkins, the best in the bin.
He stabbed each some eyes, a nose, and a grin.
He rushed to the lawn – The Front Yard of Fear.
And set up his zombies he built through the year.
He constructed his graveyard with tombstones of foam,
And placed a cloth ghost in its gloomy crypt home.
He dressed his new scarecrow with a hat and a coat,
And staked in a post for a sign that he wrote:
He laughed a small laugh and smiled with pride.
Then scattered some leaves and ran back inside.
He heated up cider and warmed up some pie.
He colored white frosting with goblin-green dye.
He filled giant bowls with popcorn and treats,
Toffee and chocolates and soft sugared sweets.
He changed from his suit and slicked back his hair.
He donned a black cloak and sat in his chair.
He popped in his fangs and gave them a bite.
Then smiled sharp teeth and waited for night.
Now that his planning and hard work was done,
He listened for sounds of laughter and fun!
He imagined kids running in white ghostly sheets.
Hobos and monsters on shadowy streets!
With masks made of plastic and rubber and paint.
He thought he heard children distant and faint!
He pictured their parents, excited and proud,
Escorting small creatures, eager and loud!
They’d spot his great house, then gather and flock.
They’d block up the street and clog up the block!
They’d line up for hours for a look and a treat.
He thought he heard sounds of scurrying feet!
It was only dry leaves swept along by the wind.
He breathed out a sigh, his proud smile thinned.
His dreams and his hopes of Halloween fame
Blew away with the leaves. Nobody came.