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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2016802
Feelings of the fall season.
A cold wind pushes wispy clouds;
shadows fly o’er the silvered land like shrouds.
Lights flicker in woods and mountains
because it’s Halloween.
Night nips the hem of ankle socks--
he ushers out serene.

The gibbous moon strains to be known;
beyond far hills arrives a plaintive moan.
In weighty branches of old oaks,
in scary silhouette,
the forms of ghouls and goblins loom;
that howl of evil threat.

It’s Halloween again to chill the bone;
an eeriness defining what's unknown.
With summer fast asleep beyond the call,
rustling leaves--dead of night--I’m feeling fall.

Sunset as quick as tabby’s twitch;
the incantation of decrepit witch.
A host of bats from limestone cave
to claw a head of hair.
The pale and drain of countenance,
that essence of beware.

A piercing howl evoking fear;
(the memory of warming atmosphere.)
The Norway maple’s gnarled leaves,
October’s vast debris.
A country setting for the rime--
autumn’s alacrity.

It’s Halloween again to chill the veins;
a hint of winter with these autumn rains.
The grins of Jack-o-Lanterns do enthrall;
trick-or-treat--leafy street--I’m feeling fall.


32 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
11-1-14

[Rhythm: 2(8-10-8-6-8-6) (10-10-10-10); repeat]
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