Wednesday, October 31, 2012

A poem for Halloween


The Time for Dancing
By: Jeff Lee


The moon is high and bright in the sky
The shadows skip ink out of still corners sticking to corners and steps
The winds race like through the trees invisible to the human eye
The oldest of places spring new life from their depths

It is the night when the vale is thin and brittle like books of paper
It is the time of horror and frights
It is the moments when breaths beneath the ground are whispered
The ethereal clock has come round striking the bells of Hallows eve night

There are devils in the drinking water
There are wolves behind every lingered howl
There is excitement in the eyes of every son and daughter
There are pointed teeth shadowed by every pulled tight cowl

Doors sit waiting for answer
Small bags sit ready to be filled
Tiny hearts beet faster and faster
Yelling not for blood, but for candy to be spilled

There are treats bowled, covered, and branded
There are tricks rolled, yoked, and rung
There are smiles hidden behind masks eager to see what will be handed
There are snickers behind bushes as endeavors of malice are stung

But still after the night has run out of races
And all the footfalls have grown still
There lurks a dark lingered kiss of ghostly paces
There walk the stories remembered ever dark and foreboding with ill

Now is there time to run wild
Tis the hour for the other siders to return
Once all the costumes are no longer hung from the form of a child
The candle of Samhain begins to burn  

They come forth from their graves of long slumber
Walking out to dance before the moon
Looking for partners to hold hands or seek plunder
Knowing for sure but hoping the music’s end is not soon

As the dawn begins his chance of the night
They bow deeply to their partners
The spectral forms seem more hollow and light
And lay down in their graces ready for another years slumbers

Those mortals that came to watch the dead dance their ball
Gather up their food and their libations
Pining back their clocks and their shawls
The keep wonder in their hears at the mystery of life’s machinations.