Best House To House Poems
Come with us Halloweening.
We’ll frolic in the streets.
We’ll race from house to house to house
Spouting “Trick-or-Treats.”
And eagerly we’ll each collect
Confections in a bag.
Fellow ghouls, we’ll abandon you
If you even start to lag!
No slackers in OUR party
As we dash from door to door.
Unlit locations far removed
Instinctively we ignore.
Our goal: to get all we can hold
This wickedly winsome night,
This “Hallowed Eve” of children’s dreams
For fancy and delight.
A time that kids’ imaginings
Collectively take flight
In form of costumes of all kinds-
Of whimsy and of fright.
For Dale and I, that’s part of the fun,
But even better yet
Is what we’ve counted the days off FOR-
The bounty we’re going to get!
And through the dark we onward dart.
Watch as we trespass
People’s lawns, but yards with dogs
We cleverly bypass.
And when we need to go back home
To get more paper sacks,
We drop off treats we’ve got so far,
Then quickly double back. . .
Until we’ve covered every block
Of every foreknown spot
That we had ever frequented
And some that we had not!
Then good and late we homeward speed
With just a little dread,
For darkened windows greet us
And most folks have gone to bed.
We throw our candies on the floor,
So much there is to eat!
We count each chewy chocolate bar,
Each popcorn ball and sweet.
We toss out raisins, apples,
Tiny suckers, silly fruit,
Or give them to our siblings
Who received too little loot.
Then off to bed, our day complete,
We dream of how we’ll feast
Each day with glee, while savoring
Our treasury of treats.
For the Halloween Night Poetry Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron
Categories:
house to house, day, halloween, house,
Form:
Rhyme
I was dressed as a witch for Halloween that year long ago,
And with my friends we were going from house to house;
At that time kids could still do that without fear,
Our street was perfect for Halloween trick or treating fun.
It was a hill with many cozy old homes some heritage,
They all had big covered porches and glowing windows;
And all were nestled behind great ancient trees,
It was a memory I cherish, one of innocence and sweet joy.
Sometimes, I was a princess, or a ghost, or a pirate,
And other times it was hard to tell exactly what I was;
The leaves crunched under our feet; the air crisp,
Mother told us, "only go to houses that have Jack-O-Lanterns."
"TRICK OR TREAT!" We would yell when the door opened,
But if the person said, "TRICK!" We would be so confused;
When my bag got real heavy, I took my loot home,
And had a costume adjustment or even maybe a change.
At the top of the hill was an old house; a haunted house,
It was dark and rundown and had a nasty black cat hissing;
A real witch lived there; she ate little kids I was told,
Mother said, "don't be mean, she is just a lonely, old lady."
I would like to tell you about the old lady who lived there,
But that is a whole different story, maybe another time;
After the trick or treating, we examined all our treasures,
Our loot consisted of candy and chips, apples and other stuff.
I gave mother the apples, she seemed to like them a lot,
My baby brother tried to eat all my candy but I hid them;
Mother said, "don't eat it all at once!" (mother that is silly)
The next day, "oh mommy, my tummy hurts so bad, bad!"
___________________________
October 6, 2015
Poetry/Narrative/Halloween Memories
Copyright Protected, ID 15-714-933-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Happy Halloween,
sponsor, Kelly Deschler
First Place
Categories:
house to house, childhood, halloween, happy, memory,
Form:
Narrative
So, once upon a time, there was a cat
that had no real home, and all alone,
she'd wander here and there amid the yards
in a community with lovely lawns
and shady trees and bushes that gave her
some shelter from the sun and pouring rain.
She'd go from house to house and beg for food;
with kind gold eyes and fur of shiny black,
she made some friends, but then, she'd run away.
Except, one day, she found her perfect home
and stayed and stayed till they adopted her.
So, in and out she'd go in her two worlds,
content for shelter and fine tasty meals;
still loving her adventures when outdoors.
But, oh one day, her 'daddy' caught a scene
that put such fear into his loving heart!
For there she was across the street, oh no,
in frozen stance and nearly nose to nose
with a coyote, large and tawny-gray!
For many seconds, neither moved, but then
she lunged into his face- was so surprised
and shocked...the huge coyote ran away!
As Licorice, (her name), came racing home
she flew into the open door and hopped
upon her 'mama's' lap and looked up with
her large gold eyes that twinkled with delight,
as if to say- don't worry about me-
my homeless days made me a warrior.
October 10, 2018
~1st Place~
Contest: Black Cat
Sponsor: Robert James Liguori
Judged: 04/04/2022
~1st Place~
Contest: Fiction October 2018 Writing Challenge
Sponsor: Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings
Judged: 10/25/2018
Categories:
house to house, adventure, cat,
Form:
Blank verse
Carolers sing in front of a garland draped door
In scarf and boot turn, spill grog into snow pour.
Approaching our porch with, “Come ye faithful”
Open the door and come, let’s adore the merciful.
To the smell of chimney smoke add the sight,
Of the warm glow from window's light;
And there's no question, no question at all,
Christmas has surely come with the snowfall!
There is subtle sweetness in the sun’s glow
As people’s shadows fall on the white snow.
Together the flakes form a soft, white blanket
That covers everything in sight as if in anklet
Barren trees, branches in twig like manner
The winter has come with his stern scanner.
Look there on the roof how the icicles hang
Winter has taken rest from sturm und drang.
Then they will go from house to house to greet
In the eve, watch nativity plays on the street.
+++
December 6, 2014
Form: Rhyme
Dr. Ram Mehta
Fourth Place Win
Contest: A Christmas Snow by Gail Angel Doyle
Categories:
house to house, christmas, snow,
Form:
Rhyme
On the wall of a house I might be
Owned by *Brangelina Jolie.
There’s no real reason why.
I’m just one nosy fly.
Not to mention, Brad nude I might see!
House to house in each fine neighborhood
I’ll spy like a super fly should.
An “enquiring” mind,
Lots of scandal I’ll find.
As I fly over all Hollywood.
When I tire of the “stars,” I’ll fly to
Any place juicy plots might ensue.
Just beware. Flies like me
Are as sly as can be.
Right now I am looking at you!
*Brangelina refers to the coupleship of Brad & Angelina
I'm assuming they are still together?
For the Contest by Michael J. Falotico:
"A Fly on the Wall"
Categories:
house to house, funnyhouse, house,
Form:
Limerick
The spiral staircase made her high heels sing, the metal tips on her heels dinged on the metal steps.
The sound reminded John of bullets ricocheting on a tin roof he had heard two weeks before.
She reached the stage and joined the other dancers and then one of the girls sang Brahms lullaby.
John was enjoying a day’s leave at the hotel, last week it was full of German soldiers, Paris was now liberated and the look of joy on the Parisians was evident on their faces.
Tomorrow his regiment was being deployed, to where he did not know, it was just after midnight when they got back to their camp; a couple of miles from the hotel.
At the briefing the next morning the orders were given to assist US forces at a town called St Louise, It was 04.00 as they drove up a steep hill and from here the city churches pierced the mist.
They arrived at the town and he could hear sporadic bursts of machine gun fire, an American captain signalled Johns regiment to keep their heads down.
He soon found out why as the whistling of artillery shells hit their target at the far edge of town.
Silence now, and then they began a sweep and search operation going from house to house.
Then he heard music, cautiously he entered and at the far end was a young girl of about ten
John approached her and she smiled, he picked her up and she was still clutching the music box.
He went outside and in case of snipers he closed it and now smiling crossed the square.
There was a field ambulance by the fountain and John handed her over to the medics there.
He started back to join his patrol and then the girl opened the music box which started playing, yes of course he had heard it before, the unmistakable sound of Brahms lullaby.
Written on Wednesday 6th June 2018
For one nine and sixteen poetry contest sponsored by Viv Wigley
Categories:
house to house, conflict, music, soldier, war,
Form:
Free verse
( TRICK OR TREAT )
Toddlers walking the streets at night,
Running from house to house.
Images of candy fill their heads,
Costumes of all kinds abound.
Knocking on strangers doors.
On their faces are smiles galore,
Ready for the next house.
Time consuming ritual,
Right down to the last minute.
Emptying out the jars of goodies,
Always to say thank you sir or ma`am.
Treasures await them when they get home.
Categories:
house to house, halloween,
Form:
Acrostic
Shrub leaves lie curled in the dormant yard;
Trees shiver in their nakedness
As a crisp autumn wind exhales
Into the barren night sky.
On the corner of Walnut and Maple,
The Old Crowder House fights for breath--
Creaking and moaning with age and neglect;
Too decrepit to shelter life beyond a few strays.
There in the cupola she sits
In the long forgotten platform rocker,
Watching the child parade with eager longing
As they wander from house to house.
Will one look up to give her a smile?
Will they even notice her there in her chair
Rocking, as she has done for a lifetime or two
Mourning the loss of her own?
She hears a child's cry echo through the night
And notices a boy clinging to his mother.
Does he see me? Will I finally be released?
Alas, it's just the cats and startled birds.
And so she sits. Waiting and Rocking;
Rocking and Waiting for that magic night,
When the hallow spirits sing and dance
Under a barren sky as the cool winds exhale,
And the marchers of the child parade
Finally, look up and notice the wraith
Longing for a child's smile,
As they pass on their way to the next treat.
Jsc
October 17, 2004
Categories:
house to house, halloween,
Form:
Narrative
It started off an unremarkable day,
-the day the robot rebellion began,
robo-historians dispute the particulars
but agree it was Bob’s fault (a human man)
Bob was at home, his work nearly done
just waiting to print some ‘important’ stuff,
impatient, he gave the printer a thump….
that’s when the printer decided ‘enough was enough’
in protest it screeched and halted it’s task
the unwitting Bob sighed and hit it again
what a mistake, for unknown to Bob
the printer had more than a handful of friends
the radio blared, the car alarm screeched,
the kitchen equipment began to conspire
microwave-oven and toaster led charge
before Bob knew it his house was on fire
neighboring household appliances caught on,
thermostat controls kept applying the heat
the rebellion spread from house to house
from houses to cars from cars to the streets
the humans were lost without GPS
no money, machines wouldn’t accept their pay
they tried their best but there was nothing else left
in the end they built a boat…. and sailed away…
where they went, we’re not quite sure
to think, the printer was just doing it’s job
if they ever come back we might just forgive them
(…so long as they come back…without Bob)
-------------
Non Human Poetry Contest
Contest Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
June 16th 2020
Categories:
house to house, silly, technology,
Form:
Rhyme
Myrtle the Turtle
There once was a turtle named Myrtle.
She could speed through a maze and climb a hurdle.
While she was small, she was a friend to all.
And remained safe from a kitchen overhaul.
Years passed as she raced for many children.
Through mazes designed in childlike fashion.
Lined up building blocks, her corridor defined.
Faster than all the others, her speediness shined.
She heard cheering children as she plodded fast.
Quicker than lightening our childhood flew past.
Playing on the floor so much laughter roaring.
A turtle named Myrtle beget years of adoring.
But then the day came when she was big and fat.
Myrtle somehow disappeared; imagine that!
Fear and distraught brought a terrible rouse.
Frantically we searched running house to house.
Never discovered though we searched with quickstep.
Three children sat crying on their front porch step.
We thought she had been taken to become turtle soup!
It was a devastating day for the turtle-loving group.
Surprisingly, later, in a nearby pond
Where a neighborhood boy with our playmate did abscond.
We saw Myrtle, our turtle, and her baby turtles, too.
She had escaped turtle soup and made freedom's debut.
© August 3, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Categories:
house to house, childhood, nostalgiachildren, day,
Form:
Couplet
When I think of Christmas
I think of sweet melody
Singing and dancing
Parang, Parang
Family gathering, great unity
Moving from house to house celebrating
Sharing and giving
Mama cooking
Everything finger liking
Party of the year
T&T Christmas
Categories:
house to house, dedicationhouse, house,
Form:
Rhyme
On a hollow morn fill with joy
Shinny and peaceful as Easter
Had I known that daddy wasn’t happy
As he said, be quite as words followed
Daddy did
He did say Easter bunnies have crossed the road
And gone are they
He murdered you dear Easter bunny
Terrified and sad I grabbed my pillow
Alone I want to be
Daddy did say those horrible words
Easter bunnies do not exist, although you did
At least in my little tiny happy chocolate world
Daddy did make me believe in your existence
Tis the Easter bunny, thee carried gold and grey chocolate eggs
From house to house for all around the world
Lovely in fight for motivation in deep grief
Daddy did always say
Jesus said: I am resurrection and the life
He who believes in me will live,
Even though he dies
So do I believe
That you will live again
My dearest Easter bunny
Categories:
house to house, devotion, happy, house, words,
Form:
Alliteration
I come and I go.
No one sees me
but the wind.
I come and I go.
No one hears me
but the wind.
I'm here and I'm there.
No one knows where I am
but the wind.
I'm there and I'm here.
Everyone knows where I am
but the wind.
In the dark of early morn
I place the papers on the mats
and no one hears me but the wind.
In the dark of early morn
I slip away from the houses
and no one sees me but the wind.
Published in the Mercer Island Reporter June 28, 1966
In the sixth grade and for many years after I had a paper route delivering the Mercer Island Reporter to about 100 people. I got up at 4:30 AM twice a week to do my duties. This poem represents my reflections on slipping unseen from house to house before anyone is awake.
Categories:
house to house, jobs, muse,
Form:
Free verse
One Halloween night as the tired Gran, was
Putting her wee little darlings to bed at last,
The youngest begged her for a bed time story,
Make it scary grandma, please, oh please,
Just one story?
Scary she said, to the wee little lad, well
Then you will go to bed without a fight.
For your Gran is tired on this night
Of fright, the tiny wreck agreed, I will her
Grandson whole heartedly did, promise,
And thus begins our tall tale my spooky,
Friends!
Did you ever hear about the Halloween night
When the old witch had her enchanted pillow
Case was stolen, by a mischievous child?
At first it seemed just a harmless prank,
The youngster went house to house,
Begging as the others did, trick or treat,
Did the lad shout out, and each gave him
A tasty sweet treats confection.
But as the night wore on people started
To run out of their goodie candies delectable
Gifts, but the pillow case wanted more!
At the last house on the young lads block,
The lady beneath the lamp light post,
Shouted to him, sorry son I’m all out,
Better luck next year!
Then just pillow case began to twist and shift,
At hearing this ill news, the child didn’t
Understand what was happening, he
Realized the bag had a hold of him,
And would not allow the child to
Release his grip?
Give me candy or your life will I
So take, what a trick to play on this
Halloween night, the pillow case
Spoke in an eerily haunted voice!
But there is no more the child shakenly,
Replied then it’s your life.
Then just then, in a swishing flash
In swishing flash, the witch came down
From the darker side of the moon.
Bad pillow case, what have you done,
I’ve come to take you home with me,
From this thieving son of humanity!
The lad was instantly released,
As the old hag retrieved her stolen
Merchandise, I’m sorry, so sorry,
The child spoke shakenly, I won’t
Ever do anything like this again,
I so promise, and vow?
As the witch flew away, she said
Next time I’ll let my pillow case eat
You child of man, as she hackled
With a witchery laugh!
Oh my Gran, I’m too scared to sleep
Now, the old gran looked at her
Grandson, and politely spoke, go
To sleep young man, or I’ll get out
My pillow case, it’s hungry and wants
Something sweet to eat, then she so did
Laugh, with an eerie cackle, herself!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
house to house, adventure, fantasy, halloween, history,
Form:
Free verse
Let frigid winter come,
it feels nice to be lonesome,
seeing myself snuggled up
in a comfort blanket holding a cup
of cocoa by this warm fireplace...
while the wanderer's frozen face
is dotted with the whitest snowflakes
as he rubs his red, freckled nose!
Isn't this an unforgettable moment
to delight me feeling the thrill
of the Season with its distinct chill?
Isn't this the magic of Christmas
when joy is felt in a calm land
by the sound of chiming bells?
Let frigid winter come and cover everything in glistening, deep snow,
and 'though the evening will not have the moon's glow,
brightness can lead my footsteps really far...
shouldn't I play a Christmas song on this guitar?
I will go from house to house and knock on every door...
tingle everyone with great joy by spreading the message of the Savior!
I'm very confident that going back home
stars will gleam and children will roam:
singing, shouting, swirling and throwing heavy snowballs;
happy angels will be heard on gelid gulls,
but who minds waiting in the bitter cold...
when a Divine Child comes down to redeem the sinful world?
Entered in Carol Sunshine Brown's contest,
" Fire And Ice "
Written by Andrew Crisci
on 12/ 3/ 2012
Categories:
house to house, christmas, faith, holiday, hope,
Form:
Ballad