A Visit from the Pumpkin Queen

An ode to Halloween in the spirit of C.C. Moore

A Visit from the Pumpkin Queen
By Greg Greene

‘Twas the night before All Saints, and all through the patch
Not a pumpkin was carven, not even a scratch.
Each pumpkin was perfect, so ripened they’d droop,
Just hoping to decorate somebody’s stoop.

The children were gathered in motley and mask.
Their parents were pensive, yet no one dared ask.
Each noggin was niggling an unspoken fear:
Might our autumn revel not happen this year?

Nightfall was nigh as the gloaming did glow
And the lengthening shadows suggested we go,
When out of the dark leapt a nimble old dame
Who startled us speechless, but we cheered just the same.

Her laugh was a shriek punctuated with cackles
That could chill a heart’s cockles or raise a cur’s hackles.
Her gesticulations were gauche and grotesque
And her décolleté drapings were nearly burlesque!

She had only one eye, which spun in its socket
As she pulled a small pumpkin from her petticoat pocket.
She conjured a cutter so sharp and serrated
That it sunk in the gourd as she grunted and grated.
Then she rasped the round rind to a pale sheen of bone,
With a snaggletoothed grin that copied her own.

She gutted its innards, its stem-cap she doffed
And, lighting it, lifted the lantern aloft.
Then turning on tiptoes, the crone eyed the crowd
And unto our eager ears she cried aloud:
“Come witches and warlocks, come goblins and ghouls!
Come kittens and kobolds, come fairies and fools!
You wolfkin, you merfolk, you craven corsairs,
You lumbering lions and tigers and bears,
Persnickety princesses, nobkins and gnomes -
Come pick you a pumpkin to hallow your homes!”

Alighting the acre, our worries gave way
To the boisterous booms of “hurrah!” and “hooray!”
Then came a last word from our dear Pumpkin Queen,
“A good night to all, and Happy Halloween!”