All Hallows' Eve
Ghastly, Macabre
Haunting, Shivering, Bewitching
Specters, Shadows, Saints, Seraphs
Praying, Glorifying, Rejoicing
Holy, Divine
All Saints' Day
Ghost lace as thin as invisible souls from aude la
attached to heavenly doors the only color is white
in this corridor of no return, symmetrical mandalas
"We are being informed by specters of the light "
Gubernatorial tablets of gold on governed seats
Hosting judgement on those not yet opaque
Oracles of Grace ethereal, with perfect assonance
Salve for the inflicted just before their passage
Telepathic messages from the aude la ...
Ghost lace un-texturized soft against the eyes
matching the shape of their molecular pure vision
in this tunnel of light, airy volumetrical devices
"We are being reviewed, by specters of the light "
October 11, 2021
Nature trail extends for miles
Surrounded by wetlands and lakes
Each step I take brings me closer
To an old plantation, where I climb the stiles
For it was here that slaves once toiled
To raise and harvest sugar cane
Their cries and moans can still be heard
And the Plantation’s magic is spoiled
Within this forest are the echoes
Of every gasp, every word
Slaves once uttered in their daily trials
In these deep woods, far from the meadows
Spanish settlers claimed this site
Where Natives suffered in their plight
Shadowy specters never kissed by sunlight
Reverberating sadness in a world void of light
Written February 19, 2020
N/A in Joseph May's “Lines to Awaken Your Muse” poetry contest, judged March 2, 2020.
Line Chosen: #4 by Robert Frost - “Whose woods these are, I think I know”
On All Hallow's Eve,
The say can be seen,
A figure alone and forlorn.
It prowls the high steppes,
Of Old Widow's Peak,
Mysterious, but meaning no harm.
The story is told,
Of two lovers of old,
Who pledged to each other they'd cleave;
But he had to sail out,
At dawning's first light,
Returning on All Hallow's Eve.
A storm came a-blowin',
And waves came a-crashin',
And soon not a thing could be seen.
He knew she'd be waitin',
So without hesitatn',
Headed home no more to be seen.
Now each year on the peak,
Her vigil she keeps,
Faithful to her dying day.
And as she stands waiting,
Her true love comes sailing,
Back to her arms through the grey.
Once more they're united,
Even death could not part them,
For love conquers all, this is true.
They'll play out this scene,
Forever it seems,
True love doesn't die, it continues.
So my friend never fear,
If you should come near,
And see that of which I speak.
It's two star crossed lovers,
Who come to each other,
The specters of Old Widow's Peak.
On All Hallow's Eve,
They say can be seen,
A figure, alone and forlorn.
It prowls the high steppes,
Of Old Widow's Peak,
Mysterious, but meaning no harm.
The story is told,
Of two lovers of old,
Who pledged to each other they'd cleave;
But he had to sail out,
At dawning's first light,
Returning on All Hallow's Eve.
A storm came a-blowin',
And waves came a-crashin',
And soon not a thing could be seen.
He knew she's be waitin',
So without hesitation,
Headed home, no more to be seen.
Now each year on the peak,
Her vigil she keeps,
Faithful to her dying day;
And as she stands wating,
Her true love comes sailing,
Back to her arms through the grey.
Once more they're united,
Even death could not part them,
For love conquers all, this is true.
They'll play out this scene,
Forever it seems,
True love doesn't die, it continues.
So my friend never fear,
If you should come near,
And see that of which I speak.
It's two star crossed lovers,
Who come to each other,
The Specters of Old Widows Peak.
Judy Ball
All ghost stories aren't scarey.
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