100 Scope Notes
Inside 100 Scope Notes

Enter to Win the TOAST GHOST Poetry Contest!

Over on Instagram (where I put all my secret artwork), I recently posted a drawing for a story idea I had a while back called Toast Ghost.

(Click to enlarge)

After I put it up, I realized something – it might make a good October poetry writing prompt. My wheels started turning and . . .

Enter the 100 Scope Notes TOAST GHOST Poetry Contest!

Kids! Grown-ups! Anyone can enter! If you’re a teacher or librarian, try it with your students! Here’s how:

  1. Take a good look at the Toast Ghost drawing above.
  2. Write a spooky Toast Ghost poem. Where did Toast Ghost come from? What does Toast Ghost like to do? The options are endless. Your poem can be long or short. Rhyming or not. Any style of poetry will be accepted.
  3. Email that spooky poem to me: scopenotes [at] gmail [dot] com. Put TOAST GHOST in the subject line.
  4. ALL ENTRIES ARE DUE BY FRIDAY, OCTOBER 29. On October 31, I’ll post my favorite Toast Ghost poem.

The winning entry will receive a handsome, extremely limited-edition Toast Ghost print!

About Travis Jonker

Travis Jonker is an elementary school librarian in Michigan. He writes reviews (and the occasional article or two) for School Library Journal and is a member of the 2014 Caldecott committee. You can email Travis at scopenotes@gmail.com, or follow him on Twitter: @100scopenotes.


  1. On a cold October’s morning
    Who knew what lay a head
    My wife had gone to work
    And my kids were still in bed
    I was feeling kind of hungry
    So I got onto my feet
    And I went into the kitchen
    Looking for a bite to eat
    I opened up the cabinets
    And much to my surprise
    There was a ghost in the bread
    But he’s such a friendly guy

    He said, “Hey, what’s up
    My name is Fred
    I was a dentist before I was dead
    It was cold outside
    And in my head
    You’d put me in the toaster
    And I would be warm instead”

    There’s a spirit in my kitchen
    And this bread is its host
    Ghost in my toast
    There’s a ghost in my toast

    A poltergeist is fearsome
    But not in a loaf
    Ghost in my toast
    There’s a ghost in my toast

    The possession of my breakfast
    Is what scares me the most
    Ghost in my toast
    There’s a ghost in my toast

    Fred lived with my family
    He wasn’t in a rush
    He had tea with my wife
    And taught my kids to brush
    And Fred and I would chat
    He dreamed to be a star
    He wanted to play rock songs
    On a solid gold guitar
    And ever night Fred would go to bed
    In that toaster nice and warm
    Dreaming of the day
    That he’s been waiting for

    And then one day, Fred wasn’t there
    My family all missed Fred
    On the counter was a note
    And a moldy piece of bread
    He left to be a rock star
    He started a ghost band
    He put his songs on YouTube
    Now he has a million fans
    But fame hasn’t changed him
    He’s still a friendly ghost
    and I can’t help but think of him
    Whenever I make toast

  2. Hi Travis,

    Thanks for posting this fun contest! I’m a school librarian for an elementary school and my fourth graders are all eager to participate, so we are doing a poetry corner in library class this week. However, the students’ email are restricted to within the district. How are you accepting entries from schools, please?

    Thank you!

  3. Vevna Forrow says

    Came with the house on a farm in Vermont
    with all the appliances and furniture. Moving in was easy
    as counting to three,
    but the couple was warned of a gossiped haunt.
    They didn’t care.
    They cooked to celebrate
    and continued an exciting move news share.
    On a Sunday breakfast morning,
    they wanted to make French toast despite the insidious warning.
    Plugged in for the first time and into the light,
    the metallic toaster rattled,
    The couple screamed and their hairless cat Rufus frowned.
    They didn’t get a chance to put in toast.
    Out popped,
    little ghosts.
    They were no were near Casper’s face.
    Each one represented as the realtor said the tormented
    elder animal cries of The Persimmons Moon Ruby Farm place.
    The past owners were monsters and the animals sought to raise alarm.
    No animals ever were put back on this farm.
    The bloodshed was their mission to end.
    Through a toaster, they always followed the home owner’s reflections.
    They hated the laughter while so many animal brethren
    suffered chops, roasting, plucking, and injections.
    This farm was a cursed reminder
    and the couple dropped their house keys in fright.
    They were never to be seen that morning again
    and their truck with a busted engine was still there from overnight.
    The realtor came back inside
    clapped and smiled to the toaster
    and said: “Good job, guys!”
    She knew of the surprise.
    She was a vegan, welcomed and hugged the ghosts with pride.
    She fought on their side.
    This farm was her parent’s loss to crazed slaughter
    She missed JoJo the Chicken, Apollo the Cow, and Wally the Pig,
    she was a sad daughter who wanted change.
    She wanted to send a message to stop future damage
    and to honor their wishes, memories of playing with her as a child,
    it was the friendless pain she had to manage.

    Pen name: Vevna Forrow
    Real name: Jasveen “Jazz” Marie Kaur
    Twitter: @jazzdraws508