- Hi, folks!
Thought I share this year's Halloween poem with you'all. As I'm a fan of scary stories and Halloween I thought you might enjoy it. I want to make it a tradition to create one of these for Halloween every year.
So - HAPPY HALLOWEEN to all of you...
Shadows grow across the land.
Darkness unfolds its opaque shroud.
Fog's icy fingers grab your hand.
Quarter moon hides behind a cloud.
Night falls early 'cross the moors
And its hideous creatures wake.
Folks close and lock and latch the doors.
"Stand by us, Lord, for Goodness' sake!"
Somewhere, there's the screeching of a crow!
The eerie howling of a beast
Makes cold sweat roll along your brow.
Storm's blowing from the East!
Leaves are dancing in the stormy night.
Rain's pouring down in sheets.
No moon, no stars are shining bright.
Doom stalks the lanes and streets.
It's party night for ghosts and ghouls.
For warlocks, witches, creature, beast.
They chant; the druids' deadly tools
Gleam ghastly in the wav'ring mist.
A mother holds her weeping child,
While father and son make their stand.
A terrible wailing sounds demanding and wild
And they know: Death is walking the land.
"The Banshee's cry!" - Folks know it well.
They're locked in, frozen in fear.
They know the purpose of that demon from hell -
It's claiming the soul of a person who's dear.
"Carol! Where's Carol?" - The mothers scream
Makes the blood in the veins turn to ice.
"She's still out. - She's doomed!" It seems like a horrible
One last beseeching glance to the skies.
Heaven's turned its back, the dice have been cast.
A lone figure is seeking refuge.
All around her night creatures are closing in fast,
Cacophonical screams filling rain's deluge.
The girl's rushing along, unfaltering, brave,
throwing herself against the diabolical foe.
"All Saints, let me get home sound and safe!"
Prayer unheard, she rushes, creatures in tow
Twelve clock chimes end this dreadful day.
It's the Hour of the Witch, "Open Season" they chant.
The netherworld's reaching out for its prey.
Ghosts, ghoulies and goblins join in the hunt.
Cold bony fingers touch young Carol's back.
She's flying across the slippery ground.
The cabin's so near. Deadly breath on her neck,
On the door the desperate girl's tiny fists pound
Latches drawn back, it opens up with creaks.
Calloused fists jerking the girl inside.
The door slams shut, and frustrated creatures' shrieks
Are filling the thunderous night.
Instant silence makes the heartbeat roar.
A mother's cradling her girl in her arm.
And after a long silence there's a knock on the door!
In the cabin, folks exchange looks of alarm.
Father and son, set to fight to the end,
Turn the key, open up, and their hearts wildly beat
"To hell wi' you, beasts!" - Cross held high in the hand -
Baffled they're by two children who call."Trick or Treat.?"
It's this time of year, when the shadows grow,
When witches dance and Banshees scream,
When warlocks and druids appear in unearthly glow
And creeps and succubs invade your dream.
And when the night is drawing near dawn,
A pale young woman appears in the hearth's shine.
She's come through a door crack, with hair the color of fawn -
A Banshee's invite - "Farmer! You're soul's MINE !"
Mercilessly, the dice of fate have been cast.
And as morning is nigh, the cabin's filled with keen.
Whatever has happened in the night that has passed
Will happen next year again. Cause that night's called
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