Tonight's the night to wear my fangs.
To knock at the doors with all my gangs.
To gather on candy and sweets and things.
To see what mischief the night will bring.
As we walk to doors in gangs of ten,
I see witches, and ghosts, and little minion men.
I see characters and gremlins and big boogie bears.
I see police and firemen and kids with big hair.
I see transformers, and angels, and devils, and such.
This is Halloween night, and I love it so much.
As the night fades away and it's time to retire.
Our candy is looked over, some thrown in the fire.
But not a bad hall for a night of good cheer.
I can't wait for Halloween to return next year.
Happy Halloween People :)
On the twelfth day of Halloween,
my true love sent to me;
Twelve Vampire Bites,
Eleven Skeletons Skating,
Ten Wolfs A-howling,
Nine Zombies Lurching,
Eight Monsters Mashing,
Seven Ghosts A-haunting,
Six Witches Witching,
Five Skull Rings,
Four Crying Bats,
Three Freaky Frogs,
Two Slimy Slugs,
And a Potion in a Cauldron.
autumn witch and her slayer
Treetops stain orange and brown.
Vibrancy settles in the hills.
Red wine stains above the sky;
black clouds tuft into raven wings.
She stands with inky hair,
long strands curl down
like snakes that await pray.
Still, yet elegant.
He towers with a quiver
on his lip.
Wet eyes beg her to run.
He clutches danger in his hands.
She closes in on him.
The way she walks is
an autumn breeze
and a slow tempo.
Lips caress on his skin.
The target on her drifts.
He falls for the daunted.
Falls for the spell,
the one he convinces himself
he is under.
The spell is just her.
She will not burn
She is his but cannot be.
He clutches her wrists.
He begs her to run.
She steps back and
leaves him in curiosity.
Heat chars her skin.
She steps in the gap
where he lacks to
finish out his hunt.
Occult boots scuff firewood.
Ash stained fingers trace
beautiful edges and lines.
She was love.
He looked at me beyond the obvious, and I shivered amidst
The deepness of his eyes, so piercing and midnight blue,
Their intensity was nothing anyone would ever miss,
And I knew beyond any doubt, a new reckoning anew.
I felt the haunting of my soul and my eyes stung with tears,
I was both afraid and enticed beyond any measure I’d known
As he moved toward me, his purpose much too evidently clear,
I stood where I was, unmoving, lest the root of his impetus be sown.
The line of his mouth hardened, his blue eyes deepened to black,
Mesmerized, unable to move, I watched him draw ever nearer,
I felt the chill of his breath as he sighed, poised on the precipice of attack,
And an enlightenment of his motive became abundantly clearer.
Here was no simple mortal known to mankind amidst the dark,
But a creature, so wonderfully formed betwixt both it and the light.
He leaned closer to me, his beautiful mouth reaching its mark,
And I fell into him, not resisting that which was to be my plight.
I felt the thrill of his touch, the chill of his mouth as he imbibed
From me the blood that ran richly and so magnificently red,
And I knew that from this point evermore our worlds would collide
Into an unknown, unchangeable moment I neither feared nor did dread.
He lifted his coal black gaze, looking deeply into dazed eyes of green,
I fell and leaned into him, pleading and begging for still more despite
So strong was the unforgiveable need for the unknown and what I had seen
As I longed for his feast upon me to prolong with no need of respite.
Wonderful creature of darkness and light, mark me forever more
With your chilled touch and your stealthy lightness of foot,
Make me yours through this night and the truth of your lore,
My mind screamed, my heart beat, as the dark, unbidden thought took root.
A grimace of a smile deliberately formed upon his handsome visage
As he stepped back and gave me a look of pure longing so vivid
My heart skipped a beat and felt the immensity of the privilege,
And then he quietly withdrew, and the need for him steadily lifted.
As he disappeared into the liquid ink of the midnight evening,
I looked about and slowly returned to myself, though amazed and in wonder
With thoughts anew at what I’d just seen despite knowing it was deceiving,
And my heart and mind split, and my complete being burst asunder.
And now in the stillness and dark of night, many years beyond that first time,
I feel the blue of his piercing eyes, the chill of his breath, the touch of his mouth,
And I long for he who invaded midnight while into my heart he did climb,
Creating a vortex of need within, as forever, my love for any other was doused.
Dark, cold, grey
There is beauty in the rain.
Each creaking sound,
A deep breath.
There's no fear, just excitement,
To see what has been hiding.
Not a clue, where to go,
Inside this old, chilly, house.
The rain outside a sweet reminder,
Of the fear these walls have kept.
Of a past I don't want back,
The screams, the tears, the blood.
Now, it's just a memory,
Of olden times, dark moments,
Stolen childhood, empty, broken.
Now I open the same door, fire crackling in the back,
Children laughing, trick or treating.
Smells of candy, rain and wind,
But no longer monsters hidden,
Behind these same old doors.
Everything is quiet
In the dark of a lit room.
Howling silence awakened
by the gloom of a crow's muffled caw
Floorboards underfoot creaking
as the intensity is peaking
A door opening to greet
The dark that lays just beyond.
Once more, Halloween Night
filled with fright and amusement.
I walk among them
Masked and hidden well.
For my grip on my knife
And my long collected strife;
Among the others?
No one can tell.
I locate my prey
In his own small mask
But he'll be dead
Before midnight's last bell.
Salem’s only right
Screams echo in old Salem,
Of the witches from Harlem,
The guilty ones truly,
The Fate Sisters three,
After their defeat,
The world was beat.
How guilty the priest must feel,
The ones he killed with zeal,
Were the only ones who were real,
He slaughtered what was left,
And doomed the rest,
To a fate worse than death.
She who walked between the rows
Naked lie the corn in the field,
Shucked, barren, picked by crows.
A yield great from the harvest
Scattered and forgotten between the rows.
Still, corn cannot judge paths of blood
or fathom wrath unbound.
It dips and turns and disintegrates
and dusts shock toward the ground.
There, strewn clothes and eyes unweep--
Seed droppings bear grain sowed.
Sharp breezes scour the life reaped
that withers between the rows.
Sun-touched hands stretch wretched,
rigid, and youth bound.
Dried husks grasped by a brown thrush
are eviscerated between the rows.
Misty breath conceals the one
to raise white's quivering sheet.
Until remains the mornings and dusks
and earth beneath still feet.
Full Moon Crown
Lichen falls down from the spruce
tree branches, light green and billowing,
some call it Old Man’s Beard but
on this tree it drapes gracefully
like long hair.
Leaves of topaz sit atop the boughs
intertwined like flowers in her hair,
a crown of gold and amber
she’s ready for the full moon celebration.