A waxing moon slides behind its darkening shroud,
The north wind turns around and blows icy,
Lily’s shrieking cat, hissing and mad, leaps free—
Halloween again? For crying out loud
Rustling costumes all bloody-black, and orange
Infect the no longer still neighborhood streets;
Such scareful dress of cotton and pilloried sheets,
Can you say any of this could be called strange?
Old dry bones, witches on brooms aflight;
Goblins, ghosties, things that bump and boom
Seizing All Souls as terror grabs up all the room;
All present and correct on this October night
Bags and bags and bags candied-full fattening sweet
Await careful parental inspection and sure disposal—
Eat it all! Quite an impossible and silly proposal,
Despite your earnest best cast spell: Trick or Treat!
We know nothing much good happens after the midnight hour,
So I hold little hope for these late writ lines.
Knocking about my Alexandria, at last, cleaned bower,
Remembering a lost love this old heart forever pines.
Storm warnings now up all along the Gulf coast—
Flash floods looming to wash away the humid mire.
I believe still it’s you that I miss hardest and most.
Reunite? Tis ever beyond that which I could hope to aspire.
Dribs and drabs of longing sated in your Facebook posts,
Whether mountain stream or shells along a sandy beach.
How is it we manage to pass young memories to graying ghosts,
And that one true love flies off to be forever beyond reach?
Dishes all washed up and time to take scant wishes to bed;
Today’s crossword awaits there to challenge clue by clue.
Though instead of the Los Angeles Times, I rather be with you instead,
And on the nightstand next to us were your newest daisies blue.
This storm will pass, and Summer blue skies will again find the coast,
Though it is ever you that I will miss the hardest and the most.
So, there I was
Doing Personal Private Secret Stuff
Getting ready for Halloween
As if that wasn’t enough
When in walked the cat
With Terror, Grime, and Gloom
And deposited his latest kill
In the middle of my just-mopped front room
So, there I left
My Personal Private Secret Stuff
And grabbed said kitty
By his scrawny-necked scruff
To put him out
In the yonder backyard
Hoping the damage wasn’t permanent
And the floor tweren’t totally marred
So, there I went for the mop
But it wasn’t there
Hanging from its bent hook
Underneath the cobwebbed lonely back stair
Across a cold October 31 moon
Figures slashing, thrashing, and flashing
Putting this old heart into a frightened swoon:
Witches upon brooms, stick-handles, and mops
Crazy calico clad creatures
Some even missing their necessary cranial tops!
So, it’s Happy Halloween
With all that Suspenseful, Terror-ridden Scary Stuff—
Did you get the good kind of candy?
Do you really believe that you bought enough?
Cuz here come the witches
And the ghosties and some things quite deplorable
(Though we really know that inside
Are youngling-type folk who are most adorable).
But don’t you believe it’s all just a simple thrill,
Beware of your cat returning with a kill;
And should you meet at your door a Witchie missing her cranial-type top
Kindly request of her, when finished, to return me my mop
Trick Or Treat!