Hallowed Evening

When spirits haunt the night, they find
That strangers can ofttimes be kind
And distribute paltry things, as sweets
To the goblins, ghouls, and ghosts to eats.

Together we sit and paint our pumpkins,
Better than the country bumpkins.
(I know they're not really pumpkins, but an orange fruit.
I just couldn't find a rhyme that would suit).

Halloween is a time when the spirits walk
Upon the streets, the roads, the dock,
And gather up a sackful of candy,
And go back to their graves thinking things are dandy.

But I'm glad that you're not a ghost,
Because being with you is what I love the most.
But, if you do become one, hear my want:
My heart is in the need of a perpetual haunt.