The Baker-Man

He not at all likes Halloween
And greedy children he can’t stand
He hates to hear them run and scream
And roam the streets in costumed bands

He hates their little spooky threats
As they thrust forth their greedy hands
Those dirty little fingered nets
That snatch and grab and make demands

He wants to put away the sweets
Remove the pies and buns from view
Hide the truffles and the treats
From that obnoxious, grubby crew

In fact, he wants to close up shop
On this of all the nights he dreads
And take a break from stirring glop
That forms the tangy gingerbreads

He reached to turn the sign to CLOSED
Yet something stayed his fleshy hand
A tasty circumstance arose
And so he let the OPEN stand

A mother with her tot in hand
Stepped inside the steaming shop
And at the bell the Baker-Man
Appeared behind the lemon-drops

He rubbed his hands and smiled his smile
And, quiet, flipped the brassy lock
He stretched to better see the child
Hidden in its mother’s frock

“Come in!” he cooed, all warm sincere
And glided forth with not a sound
He bid them sweetly to come near
And deftly turned the CLOSED sign ’round.

He waited oh so patiently
While they surveyed the treats
And dialed the oven “blistery”
As mom began to speak

“Do you serve little children here?”
She asked, and pushed the tot full-view
He could not check his creeping leer
And answered with impassioned cheer,

“Yes, Madam,” he hissed. “We DO!”


***  R.L.M. Cooper ***

(This is an original poem I wrote some time ago. A bit of fluff for fun on Halloween. Hope you enjoyed it.)

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