More spooky, fun Halloween poetry. You can view Part 1 here.
Upon Each Samhain by David O. Norris
I miss you most upon each Samhain
When the boundary turns to sheer
I wait until the veil is parted
At the ending of the year.
Sweet spirit, as you walk among us
At the tolling of this eve
I see your face beyond the sunset
And hear your voice upon the breeze.
In the glowing of the candle
From the shadow on the wall
I watch for you in every movement
And hear your footsteps in the hall.
Can you sit and spend the evening
As the portal opens wide?
Ancestral dead, I bid you welcome.
Most recent dead, I pray, abide.
When you come I sense your presence
I put my hand out in the air
A moment, then, we stand united
Palm to palm while waiting there.
I miss you most upon each Samhain
When the boundary turns to sheer
We share these hours until the dawning
Then bid farewell until next year.
Untitled by David O. Norris
Druids would not know this night
Witches would in wonder gaze
To see the festive costumed souls
Who dance about the night in play
Where ancient magic ruled the land
Children’s laughter fills the soul
Yet in this way the night is honored
Much like the ancients long ago.
The Witches’ Song by Elizabeth Coatsworth
Early, early, comes the dark,
something moves along the ditches.
Was that singing? Hark, oh hark
to the chanting of the witches!
Come, sisters, come,
let us screech at the windows,
let us blow out the candles
and breathe on their hair,
we’ve shadowed the moon
and called up the night-wind,
the owl and the cat and the broom
will be there.
Let us turn their blood chill
with the sight of our faces,
let us touch them with fingers
both crooked and cold,
and then shrilly laughing
we’ll be off to the hill tops
to frisk and to frolic
as always of old.
Did you hear them? Were they saying
scary things to shake the knees?
Or was that but breezes playing
in the dry and brittle trees?
The Halloween Tree by Ray Bradbury
It’s big, it’s broad…
It’s broad, it’s bright…
It fills the sky of All Hallows’ Night…
The strangest sight you’ve ever seen.
The Monster Tree on Halloween.
The leaves have burned to gold and red
the grass is brown, the old year dead,
But hang the harvest high, Oh see!
The candle constellations on the Halloween Tree!
The stars they turn, the candles burn
And the mouse-leaves scurry on the cold wind borne,
And a mob of smiles shine down on thee
From the gourds hung high on the Halloween Tree.
The smile of the Witch, and the smile of the Cat,
The smile of the Beast, the smile of the Bat,
The smile of the Reaper taking his fee
All cut and glimmer on the Halloween Tree…
hist whist by e e cummings (with his spacing and punctuation)
hist whist
little ghostthings
tip-toe
twinkle-toe
little twitchy
witches and tingling
goblins
hob-a-nob hob-a-nob
little hoppy happy
toad in tweeds
tweeds
little itchy mousies
with scuttling
eyes rustle and run and
hidehidehide
whisk
whisk look out for the old woman
with the wart on her nose
what she’ll do to yer
nobody knows
for she knows the devil ooch
the devil ouch
the devil
ach the great
green
dancing
devil
devil
devil
devil
wheeEEE
