Hallowe’en prompt at Imaginary Garden With Real Toadswas truly inspiring!


Have a safe & happy Hallowe’en, All!

Here is my response to the prompt!

Ghostly quote: Some one came knocking (from poem by Walter de la Mare)

On Hallowe’en night

After ghouls and goblins had given us a fright

Towards mid of the night I heard it

That sound on the door.

The newspaper came early?

Just tossed on the floor?


I rushed down the stairs

Unlocked the door

Not a sign of the raven

No bump in the night

Just a raccoon at the garbage

On Hallowe’en night!


© 2012 by Patricia Anne McGoldrick

For Hallowe’en prompt at Hallow’s Edge

October 31 2012/


With Hallowe’en being celebrated this week, many homes and stores are decorated with ghosts and goblins but my favourite symbol for the season is the pumpkin.

2012 a pumpkin carved by Eric

Carved or uncarved these orange structures are very eye-catching.

For years, on my daily drives to a neighbouring city, I drove past a pumpkin field. I saw it evolve from season to season, much like the community I live in. The field of pumpkins inspired me to write a poem for my neighbours at our annual BBQ.

This seemed appropriate to share with this neighbourhood of poets for  http://withrealtoads.blogspot.ca/2012/10/open-link-monday_29.html .


It seems to me that neighbourhoods

Are kind of like pumpkin fields

Sprouting through clay soil

Growing up

Spurting outwards with sprawling green vines

Budding and blossoming in orange sherbet blooms

Folding frequently at the tip of new creations

Freckle-faced green growth

Bigger and rounder segmented appendages

Turning to orange    Carotene taking over

Vines shriveling to brown

The autumn field neighbourhood is dotted with

Orange pumpkin balls of all sizes and shades

‘Til harvest arrives, then, here come the pickers–

Some of the pumpkins are gone to new homes already

But, for those who are able,

A few more orange globes are captured

The carving begins

Designers of all ages plot a unique face

For their autumn gold and soon

Moist seeds are roasted, then salted, not sold

The promise of next year’s crop rests in the field

With the leftover seedlings

Continuing from the remainder of old neighbourhoods.  

*Published in Cyclamens & Swords, April 2009 at http://www.cyclamensandswords.com/main/page_beginnings_3.html .

   Have a safe week, All!                  

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