Guising

Hey everyone. A poem on a real Scottish halloween as I recall them from the late. 1960’s & early 1970’s. I’ve called It guising. I hope you like it.
Guising

It was guising not trick or treating
it was the way its always been
going round the doors & hoping
the neighbours would give us something
for our song joke or story
or whatever tale we told
& we tried to be as gory as we could
Though I was never any good
at the scary stuff it just wasn’t me
I would much sooner sing a song
this was so wrong I couldn’t sing
but nobody seemed to care
I would always find something
of my mum’s to wear
for the organised parties
at church youth club or school
I was never the cool one
who could dook for apples
at the first attempt
It didn’t matter I was content
to enjoy the night
for what it was
an excuse
to get to dolled up & party
I was a happy lassie
when I went guising
I was just being me
& I never caused a scene
I enjoyed myself
though I never won a prize
Hallowe’en taught me
we all wear many masks
after all disguise is something
we learn early in our lives

@ Gayle Smith 2012

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