POETRY

Treats to Tricks

Come, all children, and take a seat
As I tell you a tale of tricks and treats.
For do you know the tale of Mr. Jack?
Well, better keep those socks on your feet.

’Twas an extraordinary night, on the eve
Where souls can cross with ease,
Between here and the spectral plane
To witness the goings-on of you and me.

Then, from yonder! Within the woods,
A ghoul, most peculiar, there stood.
Roaming around, without a care,
Looking as if he had barely reached adulthood.

“Ah, another year, another bore.
Whatever is there to come for?
These breathing passersby care not one bit
As they wander, listlessly, on the ground floor.”

“They cackle with glee, and sing with mirth,
While my body lies beneath this earth!
Well, no more! No more, I say!
Chaos and confusion, I… shall… give… thee… birth.”

And with that, our poltergeist flew from the trees,
Racing through his mind, many mysteries
Mr. Jack was gleeful to plague those humans,
All in order to disrupt their reveries.

From shrubberies, doors, and around high dormers,
Look at Mr. Jack! He was a born performer.
He’d howl, levitate, and steal any and all treats,
From all types: witches, robots, and even black cats on the corner.

A spider here, a fake door there, a crooked entranceway–
Clear the cul-de-sac, off the streets, the town was in disarray!
He tipped chairs and filched hats from anyone he saw,
While his mischievous acts put horror and havoc on display.

As the night waned and the innocents had all gone home,
Our ghostly menace found himself left all alone.
Sure, it was fun to tease humans on this one dark night,
But now, he was left feeling colder than his tombstone.

“Maybe, just maybe, I went a little too far with such measures…”
He mused sadly, recounting his misdeeds amidst ghoulish leisures.
The laughter, cheer, and excitement, once making the air so electric,
Had been sucked away, leaving the town devoid of any pleasures.

Quietly to himself, he made an invigorating promise.
His new plan, it wasn’t going to be as thoughtless.
He hurried back across the divide just as the sun rose, amber,
And the living roamed once more, feet firmly on the surface.

As days turned to weeks, to months, and finally to a year,
Our once-spooked town was traveling forth without fear.
Lingering thoughts of mishaps past and horrors forgotten
Weren’t going to spoil the night around these parts, no dear!

And from across the plane floats Mr. Jack, with new determination
To make things right, better—and a little cleverer. With renewed motivation,
He decided to tone things down—last year, it got out of hand!
But this year, this year! He’s ready to begin new machinations.

He spied treats and candy everywhere he went,
And there his attention was now being spent.
“What’s Halloween without a little trickery?
I won’t go overboard this year, but I’m not that innocent.”

A ghost wearing sunglasses hiding in a field of shrubs and greenery with purple flowers.
(Image courtesy of Susan Flores via Pexels)

Mr. Jack smiled to himself as he played his part
Hiding, disguising, mystifying; now this was art!
Sure, there were no screams of fear or wails of anguish,
But he did feel some joy in his undead heart

When he noticed others surrounding his victims,
Laughing and cajoling at the unexpected outcome
Of a bewildered child, who was counting his delights,
Only to find the broccoli head his candy had become.

“Next year, I wonder if I should expand my operations?”
Mr. Jack debated, heavily immersed in his internal conversation.
“Why should I only keep to this one town three years in a row?
Next Halloween is going to need even more preparation!”

Editorial Acknowledgments

Thank you to Jarrod Wetzel-Brown for their inspired edits on the piece.

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