Best Broomsticks Poems
In a moment of magic I once gave her a juicy innocent peach
Not yet knowing that she harboured a sweet nascent dream
In which as a youngster she knew that she would marry the one
Who handed such a fleshy gift to the gypsy Queen of Fairy Land
Bestowed upon her by night’s prophesy she carried the vision of
Requited love and blissful peace brought by subconscious longing
And spiritual clarity of a Higher Power submerged in compassion
A passionate fruit with soft skin and one huge seed of togetherness
We eloped together into a new dawn
The doomsayers had a field day as they harvested bitter doubts
‘It will only last a couple of months and the peach will turn rotten’
‘You cannot feed on clairvoyant oracles and meek pagan beliefs’
‘They are deluded insane and caught up in misguided romance’
They called her a witch a seductress and labelled me irresponsible
With so much at stake painted pictures of broomsticks and failure
While we had found the jewel in a haystack without even searching
And set fire to the past as we danced naked around a fire of passion
We knew the truth of intuitive feeling
One can never be sure what lies at the end of paths never taken
Whether road blocks and diversions belittle emotions and faith
But they who ignore heavenly signs forfeit adventure and truth
Stay stuck in spent time and hail its dubious comfort at their peril
We travelled and found a small hut on the beach out of sight
Collected starfish and driftwood and caressed wounded souls
Carved wedding bands out of sea shells and called upon dolphins
To witness our marriage surfing along happily ever since then
A cormorant applauded the feast
Under a star studded canopy on the miraculous shore of belonging
We never strayed from what intuition and feelings offered for free
Meandered on the shoreline and set our sails into a magical ocean
Tasted the salt of a mindful earth and soothed our recovering minds
Never questioned the wisdom of our union shared by hungry souls
Treasure pleasure and joy weathered powerful storms and all tides
The cosmos donates all we ever need once we are willing to navigate
Waves and effervescence sparkling desire and in our case a peach
Leading the universal way
13th May 2020
A time for werewolves, zombies, bones,
For spiders, vampires, ghosts and bats,
Blood curdling shrieks and chilling moans,
Of walking corpses, witches’ cats,
See scuttling beetles, ghouls and rats.
Old warlocks chant and banshees cry,
The carved out pumpkins light the way,
And broomsticks soar across the sky,
As shrivelled mummies flaunt decay:
It’s Halloween or All Souls’ Day.
Witches, owls, broomsticks, and bumble bees.
Peace signs, flower power, just a tease.
Princesses with crowns riding on their steed.
Steampunk Annie, rabbits, and bird so treed.
Gardens galore with flowers from every seed.
Mushroom houses and faeries, just what I need.
Dragons holding daisies, red hearts in the sky.
I am painting again. Can you hear my glad sigh?
Eerie
Witches
Ugly
Creepy
Freaky
Sneaky
Floating
Chanting
Cackling
Laughing
Broom sticks
Flying
Moonlight
Passing
Shadows
Waving
Witchcraft
Praying
Evil
Lethal
Hexing
People
Wilful
Wanton
Values
Rotten
Cats and
Magic
Crazy
Manic
Fear and
Panic
Wicked
Antic
Spell cast
Spoken
Lotion
Potion
Hocus
Pocus
Witchy
Slogan
17.10.23
A weird disturbance in the belfry….werewolves or worse?
Batwing held on a bit tighter to her bulging old purse.
Count Dracula’s red eyes bounced open in morbid surprise.
Spooky goblins chasing ghouls. Gargoyles smiles are on the rise.
October is the month for things to be slightly amiss.
The ebony toad hops away from warm cauldron’s kiss.
Witches on wispy broomsticks, showing off strange tricks.
Coffin sleepers glory in trick-or-treating shticks.
Magic in the air, anticipatory sheen.
What day is it daughter? Of course it’s Halloween.
Grab your mask, your costume and orange madness boots.
The owls are all atwitter, hooting pumpkin shoots.
When the wind in the Hollow begins to cry
And the rustling leaves begin to fly
When black ink seeps into an autumn sky
As the man in the moon begins to rise
When pumpkins turn evil and bare their teeth
And sit on your doorstep waiting to eat
The hobblin, goblins, passing down the street
As the dead in the graveyard slowly creep
When a cackle, crackles into the night
When bats and witches on broomsticks take flight
When you find yourself trembling, filled with fright
Lost in the chill, thrill of a scary sight
As you run door-to-door for trick or treat
On a night when no one, will dare to sleep.
Everything Halloween
September 1st, 2013
"Halloween Nightmare"
spooky silhouettes
encircle haunted castle
midnight chimes undead.
moonlight weaves silk web
coffins creaking eerily
fangs hunger for flesh.
wolves prowl echoing
witches swoop on straw broomsticks
ghosts glide on fright night.
magic spells enchant
beware! death looms chirps black crow
shadows lurk and lure.
misty night invades
dreams of trick or treat escape
Halloween Nightmare!
*For Tracie's Spooky Ku Contest.
words form in a flurry
bleeding saccharine too too much
all the crushed kaleidoscope colours
signature pastels and sparkling vibrants,
a tenderfoot cherry, with little of life yet to go by,
still art, that one is full to the brim with stitched up wisdom,
bleeds like watercolours across canvas melting messy hearts like chocolate,
la Ingénue’s cup overfloweth with abortions of sugary poésies
plumbed ripe and read, dripping black currents
legs wrapped around broomsticks of diamonds
Candide Diderot. ‘24
Witches fly on their broomsticks so very rough
Flying past the full moon that is bright tonight
Over the haunted house that’s daunted and tough
Where a great jack-o-lantern lies bringing fright
Lit to dishearten those who look on its soul
Making life harder, letting tears take their toll
Witch swiftly swoops down cackling with gloomy glee
Taking all by surprise, her they didn’t see
Russell Sivey
Ha-llo-ween
In the dead of the night witches fly
On their broomsticks across silken skies
There they practice their art without fear
On this one frightful night of the year.
Trick or treat is the cry of the young
As they hover round each hearth and home
Unaware of the dangers they’d meet
As they knock on the doors down their street
Dressed as zombies or demons or ghosts
Grisly faces look totally gross
With ‘terror’ they scream as they play
On the eve of that sinister day
With their cauldrons of sweets they return
Safely home without cause for concern
As on All Hallows eve when that clock strikes thirteen
The undead then reclaim Halloween.
Heather Buxton 2014
The Man On The Moon
As children we are told that the moon has a face on it,
With our childlike eyes we see a friend - the man on the
Moon. There he sits in the sky looking down on us,
With his friendly smile, loved by children everywhere.
There is a misconception that there really is an actual man
Up there, but there are others who say that he is made of
Green cheese, but we also find this hard to swallow. Yes, the
Moon is said to make people go mad by looking
At it too long, and lovers would not be romantic without
It. Even the witches are supposed to fly accross the
Face of the moon flying on their broomsticks during
Halloween. Yes, the moon has many sides to it: some
Good and some evil, but the prettiest sight is when
The moon is at it's fullest, showing that wonderful
Round face of the man on the moon smiling down at you.
On Halloween night, do you dare go out into the full moon light?
Zombies and scary creatures are out there with their terrible sighs
your mind will be filled with such horrid delight, while witches on
their broomsticks will go flying by.
Darkness will be upon the street where you and others live
all Hallow's Eve is full of freight and always gives such a shiver.
Everyone at their door, trick or treat with their loud voices they give
and spooky laughter in a dark... dark room, they also shall deliver.
Masked faces and ghost every where you look, never
know if it is real or just a Halloween costumed look.
Your heart will beat wildly with such a loud chatter
and every time someone screams, all your friends will
scatter.
On Halloween stay close to the street light, for you may end
up in a dark and haunted graveyard before the end of the night.
Werewolves and vampires they say all live in there,
always walk with caution for you could fall deep into their lair.
drowsy cricket songs
call orange-black wings to rest
on yellow ragweed
hunting with broomsticks
bent coat hangers and cheesecloth
we chase summer dreams
If only there was a wizard
like Dorthy payed a visit.
If only for our wishing.
A far off land exquisite.
An emerald palace standing.
A place for all to come.
Along a yellow brick road
followed down by some.
A path into a city
where all the dreamers go.
A million tiny munchkins
surrounding you for show.
An Oz home to a wizard.
A great and powerful Oz.
A man to answer questions.
Dreams worthy of their cause.
A place where witches bicker
and evil's fought with water.
Where broomsticks are for flying
and monkeys for the slaughter.
A good witch keeping secrets.
Her wand for waving greetings.
And knowing ruby slippers
means home and not for fleetings.
There was a dense fog upon the land
not a fit night for animal nor man...
the moon did change its silvery view
replacing it now was a blood red hue....
There just beyond thicket of the marsh road
lies the endless tar pits of bubbling black
It has been told that should one fall in it ~
There would definitely be no turning back....
Oh, how the populace did dread passing the pits
for all knew what dwelled within it...
Goblins dared not cross over it... and the vampire bats
would not go anywhere near it...
Even the witches feared this Halloween night,
as they packed their caldrons and potions...
preparing their broomsticks readying for flight...
too escape the diabolical one, known as Dark Blight.
Alley cats sat on fences and drank black draught, tonight
thence, sang they a harrowing song full of fright...
As the draught turned their multi-colored coats
to the colors of pitch black midnight...
The domesticated dogs remembered
their kindred brother wolves....
Soon they gave chase to lost souls,
while howling at the man in the moon...
So it began... with large boney fingers liken to ashy white talons
Dark Blight emerged scatching its way to the surface... its massive black shoulders
bearing a skull revealing eyes which burned
liken to red hot coals with yellow pupils set a glow...
With a sinister grin he did appear from within the pitch black pits
pentagrams and talismans were etched upon his sinewy back....
such slimy black skin mirroring centuries of horrors from many Halloweens past.
Oh, indeed there would be no rest for the weary wanderers this night...
Unless, a champion should appear in time to put things a right....
until then Dark Blight would continue to pass through the night; slithering upon his
belly ~
all the while leaving a dark trail as red as raspberry jelly...
Even the Ghouls knew and would stir clear of the sweet sticky pools
The Gnomes stood careful guard over homes,
whilst watching over all babes and fools....
For such tender flesh made the Dark Blight's lips drool...
The crows cawed thrice and the hoot owls hid their eyes....
Oh, the night was nothing nice, as blood chilled like ice....
Who would put a stop too the dastardly Blight...?