Wilson

The morning after Halloween is clean-up time indeed;
a witch’s broom, some candy corn, a slew of pumpkin seed.
Those ghostly apparitions left their mark upon the walk;
like lines crisscrossing everywhere made with your basic chalk.

That pumpkin plump without a cut sat by the window sill;
(I think the trick-or-treaters passing by received a thrill.)
And even though this pumpkin posed without a grin at all,
he was essential as decor for Halloween this fall.

So in my hands I held Wilson--I named him to be cute;
but unlike any soccer ball, he would not get a boot.
At least not from a foot, you see, because that would not do;
a kick to Wilson would elicit cries, like ick and eewwww!

Yet being booted has another meaning as you know;
I walked with Wilson out the door onto the patio.
Then out the screen door, down the steps--my pumpkin on his way;
much like a scarecrow, I’d use him to keep critters away.

Lately the squirrels had given me a fit of irk and blues;
they got into my bird feeder and perched upon my Cruze.
My Chevy wasn’t very old and so I sought a fix;
my thought was that dear Wilson would apply some scarecrow tricks.

It should be known that ‘fore ouster, I gave Wilson a face;
I used a Sharpie on his skin; I put a scowl in place.
At least it was to me, I thought--a scowl my best to draw;
Oh Wilson, will you do your job?  Will you lay down the law?

Besides the squirrels, I wanted Wilson to alarm the birds;
those wrens were landing on my Cruze--I had a few choice words.
And there was this black cat that came from neighborhoods unknown;
my hope was that Wilson would make them leave my car alone.

I placed old Wilson at the top of my front yard pole lamp;
the sky had shed some tears that night and so the yard was damp.
I talked to Wilson like he was alive and had a brain;
my next door neighbor looked at me as if I were insane.

Yet I cared not because I had a plan for pumpkin plump;
no more would wrens land on my car and use it for a dump.
With Wilson as a guard extant, I’d have some peace of mind;
Ah, Wilson, do your best to scare--plump pumpkin, be so kind!

With smug I entered back inside for I was on a role;
I plucked a Butterfinger from a half-full candy bowl.
But when I checked on Wilson, all at once my face turned red;
a squirrel was munching on a nut atop of Wilson’s head.


40 Lines
Writer’s Cramp Co-Winner
11-1-15
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Prompt:
Write about the day after Halloween.  Include in the piece:
--One or more uncut plump pumpkins
--One half-full bowl of candy