Twas Halloween eve under a full harvest moon…
The pumpkins were quiet amid the corn husks and coon…
When along come a banjo picker to practice his stuff…
Forward rolls and backward, ya can’t practice enough…

From a graveyard nearby, some skeletons rose…
And moved towards the patch that the pumpkins oft chose…
Standing silent in the background watching the young picker pick…
Skeletons can’t smile, but they like banjo licks…

A vulture was perched on a limb way up high…
Backlit by the moon, in the cool foggy night…
Even the vulture liked the banjo, his crooked dark smile…
Several bats showed up, having flown a long country mile…

The skeletons commenced to dancing, as the picker picked a reel…
Imagine how scary that Halloween night would feel…
Fog in the valley, upon the pumpkin patch too…
Some ghosts happened by, just to say “BOO!”…

Some folks wonder as they read these lines…
Wouldn’t that picker be scared right out of his mind?
It is a scary thought for sure, and the fear still lingers…
But you couldn’t pull the banjo, from this dead man’s fingers!

BanjoTom2, Halloween Eve 2017