He gutted the pumpkins, the best in the bin.
He stabbed each some eyes, a nose, and a grin.
He stabbed each some eyes, a nose, and a grin.
He rushed to the lawn – The Front Yard of Fear.
And set up his zombies he built through the year.
He constructed his graveyard with tombstones of foam,
And placed a cloth ghost in its gloomy crypt home.
I hate foam. I've long ranted about those small white spheres that end up all over the place when you buy something new and you remove it from its cushioned box. Before you know it, you have tiny white foam dots clinging to you like ticks.
I have never ceased to marvel at the Haunter who masters the medium of foam. They turn ordinary foam sheets into stuff that resembles real stone... and even old rotted wood. That is just something I could never master. And will never ever attempt. I was looking at my old Haunt photos and I cringe at the crudeness of these tombstones my brother and I made back in the 80s. We upgraded them over the years, first with a layer of flour mache and then with added structures/protrusions (the first year was literally just carved foam sheets...and we eye-balled the shapes [and you can totally tell!]).
Below, a visual history of our crimes (but they got the job done):
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