Halloween Trick Poem by Ima Ryma

Old Widow Jones lived down the street.
She treated all us kids real well,
Always smiling and ever sweet.
The small house in which she did dwell
Needed repainting, but we knew
She lived on a fixed income that
Expensive stuff she could not do,
Like painting her home habitat.
Came Halloween and we stopped by.
Fresh baked cookies we got from her.
We came back later, we knew why,
A dif'rent kind of trick for sure.

Old Widow Jones was our saint.
We gave her house new coats of paint.