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Personal Note:

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Poem

Sit still in your chair, little one, and I'll tell the tale
of my true Halloween story and my sad travail.
I was a kid just like you, eating my frosted flakes.
I asked mom for more sugar, for the zip Halloween takes. 

After school, I biked to the other side of the hill -
in childish fun, to Tommy's house, Autumn hours to kill.
Later, Tom's mom said, "you best get on your bicycle seat".
It's getting dark, and you must get home to trick-or-treat.

I decided to take a shortcut on Old Hill Road,
Total darkness, and a winding path, trouble forebode. 
I took the abandoned dirt trail, to go over, not around.
As I pedaled, I saw nothing, not even the ground.

I was thinking that I should have had my brakes repaired.
My bike was going faster.  I was starting to get scared. 
At this speed, I must have been sailing down the hill. 
Would I fly off the road, taking a life-ending spill?

Even if I survived, I was lost, and I'd be late.
My mom would be mad - no, worried, at this rate.
I screamed at the top of my lungs, but no one could hear.
I'm still peddling that bike, a hundred years later, I fear.

I'm hoping my long beard won't get caught in my spokes.
I'm lost, waiting for someone to take me to my folks.
I'm so old and tired, I don't know if I'm alive or dead.
I've been riding so long; I'm going out of my head. 

So, pour on some more sugar, and finish your flakes.
Get on your bicycle and ride, no matter how long it takes.
Take Old Hill Road, where I've been lost since I left my friend Tom,
and take me back home, take me back home to my mom.

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