White Halloween
We're having a white Halloween
as it snows to the brim.
Where the pumpkins lie buried.
Their candles going dim.
There's a cold spell upon us.
White frost on the vines.
Their stems peeking out
to ceasing our spines.
With sheets of white cotton
torn between branches.
Ghosts with black eyes.
Spirits in blanches.
Webs of white cotton
stretching the trees.
Home for a spider.
A place on the breeze.
Blankets of snow
covering the ground.
Spirits lay dormant
when evil is crowned.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2014
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