Long Holidaynight Poems
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One starry night lit up the skies
lighting the way for three wonderers
traveling where the snowy path lies.
Whistling winds howled fear to all.
Proudly a deer stood watching about
studying the travelers crying call.
Nowhere to go but forward
was the only answer for the trio.
Home appealed like a reward.
Far off one saw flashing rays
flickering in the night heavens
something not seen by day.
Oh holy night was calling a song
of peace on earth to all about
the wonderers gazed far and long.
A church stood in the faraway
with skylights shining ever bright
Carolers chanted in words of pray.
The echo of the music traveled away
one by one the trio joined the carol
singing Silent Night in a calm way.
When the hymn came to a pause,
all stood still in warmth of ecstasy
It is time for Christmas and Clause.
May the joy of the holiday night
bring happiness to all this season
and let all your wishes be right?
The pumpkin's almost done, each pip sticking to the edges, not wanting to be parted from its mother.
The fresh, chilly new winters gale collided into her by the ajar window and she shivered.
She could see the orange moon glide vividly across the bed of lilac clouds; night was yet to come.
A single candle was placed inside the Jack-o-lantern and she lit it for fun.
Imagining a bunch of dancing witches sing amongst the undisturbed flames.
She smiled knowingly at such glee a cackle they make.
The distant sun shone from a crack in the blues and violets of the skyline.
Triangle eyes of the pumpkin rejoiced silently at her and her minds eye was triumphant.
Its jagged teeth, some square, some not poked out from a smirking grin.
Then she climbed the wooden stairs and got whisked away in a night of amazing simile and superstition.
Her wardrobe threw clothes at her and each garment was her friend.
Racing to the front room again, she looked to her orange companion; casting a purple shadow.
Her cloak trailed excitedly after her body and the black boots clipped on the thin rug beneath her fish-netted feet.
Halloween was here again and what a rush of anxiety it brings to her soul.
She and her pumpkin made readiness in dancing about the egg soaked roads, to become engrossed in a number of friends and stink-bombs.
By Jodie Hannen
05-11-2011
For Linda Marie The sweetheart of P.S "Holiday Hearth" Poetry Contest